


Misplaced Moony

by ShayaLonnie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Canonical Character Death, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:49:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 37
Words: 163,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8376253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShayaLonnie/pseuds/ShayaLonnie
Summary: A mysterious item and mischievous Marauders end up accidentally shoving Remus Lupin into another time and place where he has to rebuild his life from scratch, deal with the aftermath of a war he hadn't yet been a part of, all with the help of new friends and a special young witch.*Indefinite Hiatus—Not Abandoned*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta Love: Fluffpanda, MissandMarauder, azuthlu, LadyParongsny, Mojowitchcraft, kanewolfe, michsisk

**June 1976  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

"You worry too much, Moony, my friend."

Remus looked up from his position around the corner where he was supposed to be on the lookout for Professor Higgs, an ornery old coot with a distaste for mischief and mischief makers. "I think I worry an adequate amount given the circumstances, Padfoot," he insisted, adding a curt, "thank you very much," before looking back to see his Sirius flicking his wand in time with James's movements as the two attempted to dismantle the security wards set around the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"The circumstances being that we're celebrating the fact that we've finished our O.W.L.s, and we have a spectacular summer planned?" James asked with a crooked grin, the same daring expression on his face that had earned him a scowl from a certain redhead that evening at dinner when he had asked her to go to the cinema with him over the summer.

It was a move he clearly had hoped would appeal to her Muggle upbringing, considering James had not even known what a film was until last Christmas when Remus had taken his three best friends to a cinema in Yorkshire to watch _Jaws_. James left the theatre determined to somehow transport a great white shark into the Black Lake to see if the giant squid would eat it. Sirius had spent the entire film mapping out their plans to go to local beaches the following summer to see girls in bikinis. Peter had nightmares for a week and developed an unhealthy aversion to fish.

Remus sighed. "The circumstances being that we're celebrating the end of the year by breaking into the Defence classroom."

"Moony, we're breaking into Professor Higgs's _office_ , not his classroom," Sirius corrected, his relaxed tone only adding to Remus's growing anxiety. "He keeps all the good things in his office. I overheard him telling Diggory that he's got a Secrecy Sensor and a Probity Probe."

Peter poked his head out from under the Invisibility Cloak he was wearing, slumped on the floor a few feet down the hall where he had a decent view of the nearest staircase and thus any passing prefects or professors. "What's a Probity Probe?" he asked with a raised brow.

Sirius grinned, grey eyes flashing against the sliver of moonlight coming in through the nearby window. "I don't know, but I'm gonna touch it.".

Trying to will away the growing anxiety in his chest, Remus remembered the last time Sirius had said those words. An unfortunate incident in Care of Magical Creatures with a baby chimaera, three friends too loyal and too stupid to drag him out of trouble fast enough, and all four Marauders spent a week in the hospital wing nursing sore wounds and deflated egos.

Trying to forget the memory, Remus stuck to the situation at hand and answered Peter's question. "It's a type of Dark Detector that searches for magical objects and Concealment Spells. It's like a staff that you wave over an individual like a Muggle metal detector."

He rolled his eyes when all three of his pureblood friends stared at him, clearly not knowing what a metal detector was. If it was not related to music, motorbikes, clothing, or movies, his friends paid little attention to things having to do with the Muggle world. It was a pity, considering James had his heart set on marrying Lily Evans, and Sirius had been slapped more than once by Muggle-born witches for rude comments regarding the use of condoms— _"Don't look at me like that! You should have seen what she wanted to put on my knob! Contraceptive Charms are perfectly adequate, Moony!"_ —and arguments where he judged all Muggle-raised individuals based on whether or not they were a fan of the Sex Pistols.

"Wait . . ." Sirius put both of his hands up, wand still gripped in the right, and turned to stare at Remus. "You _wave_ it over someone? Why's it called a probe then?" he asked disappointedly. "It should _probe_ things! That's misleading."

James snorted, still flicking his wand at the door. "You still want to touch it?"

"Of course, but now I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it if I decide I want to keep the thing," Sirius said in a huff.

"You were going to _probe_ with it before?" James asked, smirking when he felt several of the wards drop from the still-locked door.

Sirius shrugged. "Well, now you've gone and ruined Peter's birthday surprise."

The smallest Marauder looked up in a panic. "What?!"

Remus chuckled at Peter. "Ignore them. And you will _not_ be stealing anything out of the office, Pads. We're already risking expulsion by breaking in. How I let you talk me into these things—"

"We make your life interesting, Remus," Sirius interrupted.

Rolling his eyes, Remus sarcastically muttered, "Because being a werewolf isn't interesting enough."

Sirius shook his head. "Not in the slightest. Sometimes I think you fake it all just to get girls to think you're dangerous," he said teasingly, a tone of voice that he often used to cover up the severity of Remus's situation, reminding his friend that perhaps not everyone in the world either feared or pitied him. It was a tone that Remus was fond of; it made him love his best friend all the more.

"I _am_ dangerous," he said quietly.

"Ooo." Sirius faked a shiver. "Say it with a little more gravel in your voice. That almost got me half hard."

Remus laughed and hit him in the arm.

"Your furry little problem does _not_ make you special, mate," Sirius insisted, smiling at his friend.

James chuckled. "That's not what MacDonald said last week."

Remus briefly paled at the mention of their Housemate, a lovely blonde half-blood witch who had taken a fancy to Remus a year earlier. She was one of many that he actively tried to dissuade, but one of very few who was not easily pushed off toward Sirius's bed. "What?!" he squeaked a bit, gaping at James who was trying to stifle his laughter to avoid getting busted. The idea of Mary—or anyone outside his friends or the headmaster—knowing his secret easily sent Remus into a panic.

"Not the werewolf thing," James said, waving off Remus's worries. After a moment, he raised a brow. "Unless you actually told her?"

"Of course not! Don't be an idiot, Prongs," Remus snapped. "Wh-what did Mary say?"

James grinned, and Sirius turned, mimicking the worrisome expression. "I overheard her telling Brown and Meadowes that you were . . . What did she say? An animal."

Remus's soft green eyes narrowed at his friends, and he forcibly kept his inner wolf at bay, doing his best not to react to their provocation. "You're lying," he said firmly, though his tone indicated a hint of doubt in his own words.

"You shagged MacDonald and didn't tell us?" Sirius asked teasingly.

Remus blushed. "I did not. I just . . . We kissed a little is all."

He did his best to keep things vague. The truth, of course, was that Mary had chosen a terrible moment to strike. Too close to the full moon and Remus was barely able to reign in the wolf who was desperate to seek out the witch's warmth. Thankfully, there was enough of the boy—nearly a man—to hold off on deflowering the girl in the middle of the corridor, but he still had pressed her to the wall, rutting against her like an . . . well, an animal while snogging her senseless.

As if rumours and speculation regarding his condition and "sick aunt" who he often visited were not enough, the girls at Hogwarts who had caught him at a bad time were whispering to their friends now about Remus's prowess. Somehow, he could get away with snogging a girl in a dark alcove and not speak to her again, albeit for her own safety. _"He's just shy,"_ they would say as they simpered over him in the library where he kept his nose firmly stuck in the pages of old Defence texts—while Sirius did the same thing to witches and ended up hexed for it the next day— _"Couldn't even remember my name, the wretched cad!"_

"Why Prefect Lupin!" Sirius gasped, clutching at his chest. "Snogging in school? I don't believe it!'

Peter snorted. "How does a little snogging make you an animal?"

Grateful for the dark hallway, Remus felt warmth creep up his face and settle in his cheeks. "I might have . . . It was a little close to the moon and . . . you know how I get."

James smirked. "I'm guessing there was a bit of growling."

Peter snickered. "A little howling?"

"Do you bark when you come?"

Remus's eyes widened. "Sirius!"

Sirius shrugged innocently. "What? I do sometimes."

James, still laughing, grinned as the door finally clicked open. "Aaaand we're in!"

Peter stood up, folding the Invisibility Cloak up and passing it over to James. "Do you really bark when you—?" he began to ask Sirius, but James quickly cut him off.

"Of course he doesn't, Pete. We all know that Sirius just calls out his own name there at the end." All three friends shared a chuckle at Sirius's expense.

"Been watching your mates shag?" Remus teased. "You abuse that Invisibility Cloak too much, Prongs."

James laughed and rolled his eyes. "Please. If I abused the cloak, I would have done so to sneak into the prefect's bathroom."

Sirius chuckled as he led the way into the empty classroom and toward the office in the back which was shockingly left with only a simple Locking Charm. "Yeah, and get a glimpse at Evans. Do you think the carpets match the—?"

"Watch it," James warned his best friend, all sense of humour gone from his face. "That's the future Mrs Potter you're talking about."

Sirius ignored the words of warning. "The only Mrs Potter in your life, mate, is the one who tucks you in bed."

James smirked. "She tucks _you_ in too."

"That's cause _I'm_ her favourite son," Sirius said with a grin.

Remus shook his head at his friends as the door to the office was opened. "Prongs, I hate to tell you this, but after what the two of your pulled with Snape, I don't see Lily giving you the time of day in the foreseeable future."

James rolled his eyes and stepped into the office, casting a Wand Lighting Charm to make sure there was nothing in their path to run into that would make noise and alert the castle to their break in. "We might have taken the thing with Snivellus a little far," he admitted, looking almost remorseful, "but you heard what he called her. If anything, we just revealed his true colours. She'll thank me in the end, just you watch."

Remus sighed and shook his head, tempted to argue the point, but Sirius venturing off unsupervised pulled his attention.

"Is this the Probity Probe?" he asked with a bright grin as he reached out to touch a long stick that looked old enough to have once belonged to Merlin.

"No," Remus said, intercepting Sirius's hand before he could touch it.

Undeterred, Sirius quickly moved his attention to a glowing cane in the corner of the room that had a blue stone inside a crystal ball at the top. "Is _this_?" he asked, reaching out to run his fingers over the orb.

Remus groaned in frustration, grabbing at his friend once more. "Sirius, stop touching things if you don't know what they are. There could be dangerous items in here."

"So, are you going to see MacDonald over the summer?" James asked from across the room, browsing through a large book on the desk.

Remus looked up. "What? No, of course not."

"Moony can't date exclusively," Sirius said as he fiddled through a small box in the corner with something that sounded like either gold coins or nuts and bolts. "He and I are going to be bachelors forever! Out on the prowl! Witches, look out!"

"What about me?" James asked.

Sirius barked a laugh. "The last time you played wingman, you ended up drinking too many butterbeers and inventing a song called, ' _Lily, Why Can't You See Me?_ '"

Remus smirked. "She sees you just fine . . . toe rag."

"What is a toe rag anyway?" Peter asked as he leant against the desk near James, nervously fiddling with his robes.

"It's obvious innit?" Sirius said confidently. "It's a thing Muggles use to clean their feet. It's called a _toe_ rag."

Remus just shook his head.

Peter scoffed. "Yeah well, a Probity Probe turned out to not be a pro—"

"Watch it, Pete!" James snapped, reflexively reaching over to catch a small glass ball that Peter's elbow had knocked over. "You almost broke this thing," he said, placing the artefact back on the desk. "What is it?"

Across the room, Sirius nearly jumped over Remus, launching himself toward Peter and James. "Lemme touch it!"

"It's just a ball," James said with a smirk, tossing it back and forth in his hands. "Hey Padfoot, wanna play fetch?" he asked, holding the glass orb up in front of his friend who laughed and grinned at him.

"Ball! Ball! Gimme the ball! Throw the ball!"

Remus swallowed, following the orb with his eyes anxiously. "You three are making me nervous."

Sirius pouted, snatching the ball out of the air when James tossed it to him. "Aww, Moony's left out. I'm not the only canine in the room. Moony want the ball?" he asked, using the same tone of voice that James had. "Moony want to play fetch?"

Remus growled indignantly. "I'm going to bite you one of these days."

James smirked. "Is that what you said to MacDonald?"

"Oh Moony," Peter chimed in with a mock falsetto voice, "what big teeth you have."

"The better to nibble all your bits with, my dear," James growled teasingly, stalking toward Peter who pretended to faint.

Sirius smiled at the werewolf who was rolling his eyes at his friends. "You need to relax, mate," he said. "Here, catch."

"Sirius, be careful!"

The glass ball was tossed gently to Remus but just a hair too far out of reach. Panicked, he moved forward, stretching his long arms in hopes of snatching the ball out of the air before it crashed into the ground. As the orb came down toward his hand, Remus caught sight of it, up close, noting immediately that it was not as smooth and flawless as he had originally believed. A spindle hung off of one end of it with a small handle-shaped protrusion that spun as it flew toward him. When his hand gripped around the ball, the golden spindle pricked the centre of his palm. "Ouch. Shit."

James frowned. "You all right?"

"Yeah." Remus winced, more in irritation than pain. "It's got a sharp thing on the end, and it cut me," he said, rubbing the blood from his palm off on his trousers and then holding the ball up to see if it was stained. His eyes widened when a drop of crimson liquid fell from the spindle onto the glass and it began emitting a soft light.

Sirius's gaze hardened, and he took a step toward Remus, his stance protective. "Why's it glowing like that?" he asked, all mirth gone from his tone.

Remus stared at the glowing ball, unable to turn his focus away from it as the light grew brighter; the orb warmed and pulsed in his hand as though it had a heartbeat of its own. He could hear his friends only through muffled shouts as they tried to approach him only to be held back by some sort of shield that glowed the same colour as the glass. He vaguely thought he heard James yell, "Remus put it down!" before he felt a strange tug behind his navel that felt similar to a Portkey but much, _much_ more uncomfortable.

"Guys," he said, looking up to see all three of his friends waving their wands, attempting to break through the shield. "I don't feel so—"

* * *

**June 1996  
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place**

"You worry too much, Moony, my friend."

The old werewolf rolled his eyes and sighed as he followed his best friend up the many stairs toward the attic of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. "I think I worry an adequate amount given the circumstances, Padfoot," he admitted, ignoring the way that some of the paintings on the walls narrowed their eyes at him as he passed.

Sirius had not been able to remove the portrait of his deceased mother, but the other paintings of old Black ancestors were not permanently stuck. They were, however, silenced, and Sirius kept them on the walls for his own amusement. Before he got around to silencing them for the sake of peace, Sirius enjoyed flaunting his blood-traitor status in the faces of the portraits, and he once even told his great-great grandmother that he was planning on running away with Remus. She had rolled her eyes and said that if Sirius had planned on making her feel scandalised over a little bit of homosexuality then he had another thing coming. She did not give a hair for his sexual preference—which Remus knew to be settled around anything that could offer the poor man a bit of love and warmth, regardless of gender, blood status, or species—but old Ursula Black nee' Flint sure did draw a line when she found out that Remus was a werewolf.

_"Keep that thing out of our family!" she had screamed._

_"Sirius isn't my type anyway," Remus growled at the painting._

_"Yeah." Sirius grinned. "Don't think he won't still end up in the family tree, though. I caught him last week with his hand up Nymphadora's jumper."_

_Remus had blushed, shocked that he had been caught groping a witch thirteen years younger than him—and Sirius's little cousin. He made to apologise, but Sirius laughed him off saying that if anyone needed a good shag it was Remus. Also, Tonks had had taken a fancy to him long before they had been paired up on missions together when the Order had been reformed after Voldemort's return._

"It's just a bunch of old crap in an attic," Sirius said, trying to hide the way he winced a bit as he continued climbing the stairs. He was not willing to admit aloud that Azkaban had taken a serious physical toll on his body, and that the last few years on the run, starving, had left him poorly aged. Sirius overcompensated by pretending that he was still in his early twenties, hiding his aches and pains with Healing Charms and Anti-Inflammatory Potions. And, of course, a liberal use of firewhisky. "Yes, my family collected dark toys from time to time, but I'm sure it's nothing we can't handle."

Remus sighed. "I'm not worried about the artefacts, Pads; I'm worried about you touching things."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I'm not an idiot. Or some child who can't keep his hands to himself, you know. I do have _some_ semblance of self-control."

"I'd rather do this on my own."

Pushing open the attic door, Sirius shooed Kreacher away. The elf obeyed, looking like he was hoarding things in his filthy loincloth as he moved toward the door. "Well I'm bored," Sirius said, narrowing his eyes at the elf who glared at him murderously before bowing his head and then leaving. "Deal with it."

Remus frowned. "That bad?" he asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his second-hand robes that were held together by far too many Reparo Charms.

"Stuck in this place with only the occasional Order member coming through to keep me company?" Sirius frowned looking genuinely remorseful. "I'm an arsehole for looking forward to the full moon because I know you'll be here." Remus reached out, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. Sirius took it immediately, savouring the momentary affection that he only allowed from Remus, Tonks, and occasionally Molly Weasley when the witch came by to fill the cupboards with food in the hopes of fattening Sirius up good and proper.

"I can't even talk to Harry." Sirius sighed, letting go of Remus's hand. "Bloody Umbridge."

Remus nodded, scowling at the witch's name in solidarity with his best friend. The old toady woman had been a thorn in his side for years now as she tried to repeatedly pass legislation against werewolves that made his life dramatically worse. Now, she was making more lives awful since she had taken over Hogwarts, ousted Dumbledore, and made a genuine enemy of Harry, and thus, all of the boy's friends. It gave Remus a great deal of pleasure knowing that James's son had taken what little he had been able to teach him during the one year was a professor, now using it to educate his fellow students, creating a group to fight back against Umbridge's ridiculous rules regarding Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"It'll be over soon," he said softly when he noticed Sirius begin to retreat a bit into himself the way he often did when he drowned in the guilt regarding James and Lily's deaths. "Harry will come home, and Dumbledore will restore order to Hogwarts."

Sirius nodded, running a hand through his hair in frustration, and then begun digging through several boxes in the corner. He tossed away old jewellery as he subsequently waved his wand over items, looking for traces of Dark Magic. "If Fudge doesn't have him arrested."

"Fudge is an idiot," Remus said as he browsed through the books on the shelf along the wall, noting several titles he knew would need to be specially disposed of by Sirius himself as they were cursed by Black family specific blood wards.

"Most politicians are. I have a special dislike for _that_ bastard, though. He was there when I was arrested."

Remus frowned. "I remember."

Sirius turned and smiled sadly. "Don't get all morose on me, Moony. It's over and done with," he said with a tone of finality that left no room for argument, though they'd had more than one about the subject over the last two years. It usually happened whenever Remus tried to apologise for not trying to help Sirius when he had been arrested, for believing the media instead of trusting his instincts, for not, at the very least, visiting Sirius in Azkaban to hear the man's version of the story.

"The past is in the past. Hey! Look at this!" he proclaimed loudly, drawing Remus's attention as he reached into the bottom of a large box, withdrawing a glass orb. "Wanna play fetch?"

Remus looked at the item curiously, as though he were having a sense of deja vu. "Sirius, maybe you shouldn't—"

"Here, Moony, catch!"

The glass ball was tossed gently to Remus, but just a hair too far out of reach. Panicked, he darted forward, stretching his long arms in hopes of snatching the ball out of the air before it crashed into the ground. As the orb came down toward his hand, Remus caught sight of it up close, noting that it was not as smooth and flawless as he'd originally believed. A spindle hung off of one end of it with a small handle-shaped protrusion that spun as it flew toward him. Just before the glass came down, spindle side toward the centre of his palm, Remus instinctively pulled his hand away, watching in shock as the glass ball crashed into the hardwood floor, smashing into pieces.

"Sirius . . ."

"You didn't catch it."

"Of course not!" Remus snapped. "Who knows what this could have . . ." He blinked, looking down at the ground as the shards of glass began to glow. Dashing across the room, Remus put an arm out across his friend's chest protectively. "Sirius, get back!"

Sirius's grey eyes widened as the glowing shards brightened to a blinding level before disappearing entirely. When his gaze adjusted to the lack of light in the room again, he focused on a shadowy shape in the room, standing on the spot where the broken glass orb had recently been. "Uh oh."

Remus had his wand drawn instantly on the figure. "Drop your wand!" he growled fiercely, his glowing golden eyes widening as the figure turned, limbs shaking. "Merlin," he whispered.

"You can't Apparate inside Grimmauld . . ." Sirius muttered as his mouth fell open. "Oh, shit," he said in shock when he recognised the person standing before them. "Moony?"

The old werewolf's lips parted and the colour drained from his face as he stared into the eyes of the frightened boy in front of them. "Pads, what have you done?"

Sirius swallowed hard and lowered his wand. "Remus, please tell me you knocked up some witch fifteen or so years ago, and that's your kid."

The boy—sixteen-year-old Remus Lupin—slowly turned around to face the two men, his soft green eyes briefly glowing gold in the dying light. His left hand was tightly clenched as though he were holding onto something that was no longer there. His right palm was bleeding as it held tightly onto the cypress wand in his grip. He looked up, clearly unaware of his current surroundings as his attention fell on a head of familiar black hair. "S-Sirius?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, from this point forward since there are two Remus's . . . outside of dialogue (because some people will still call older Remus by his first name) older Remus will be referred to as "Lupin" like in the HP books, and younger Remus simply as "Remus".

**June 1996  
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place**

Remus was shaking, wand gripped tightly in one hand—his _bleeding_ hand—and the other was empty. Only moments ago it had been holding that blasted glass ball that Sirius had tossed at him. It felt like Portkey travel, only the worst kind he had ever experienced; like the breath had been sucked from his lungs, similar to Side-Along Apparition but . . . more nauseating. His insides felt like they had been pulled out through his throat and then shoved back inside backward, like his skin had been scrubbed raw with sandpaper, like his head had been squeezed so hard that he had blacked out.

"Drop your wand!" someone growled, and Remus opened his eyes to find he was no longer in Professor Higgs's office. The room was dark and unfamiliar, but it smelled . . . like he had been there before. His vision was still blurry, and his hearing was a touch muffled, so reluctantly, he relied on the wolf senses to take over and help him regain his footing. _Smell_. Smell was important.

He could smell Padfoot and that made him relax just a touch until another scent overwhelmed him: _another wolf_. He gripped his wand harder and turned ever so slightly, half expecting Fenrir Greyback to be behind him.

"Merlin," the unfamiliar— _was it?_ —voice whispered, and Remus swallowed hard as the wolf inside his head did not thrash defensively like it normally did in the presence of another werewolf. Instead, it felt . . . confused?

"You can't Apparate inside Grimmauld . . . Oh, shit."

His hearing slowly returned to him, and Remus forced himself to relish the obvious sound of Sirius's voice. At least . . . it _sort of_ sounded like Sirius. And there was no mistaking the word "Grimmauld" coming from the man's lips. Remus had spent more than a few years listening to his best friend ramble on and on about his awful family and childhood home.

_"I should bring you to Grimmauld Place one of these days, Moony. My old man would kick me out of the house just for associating with a werewolf," he'd said, his words meant to be the highest of compliments in regards to Remus's lycanthropy._

_Prongs, ever the opportunist, suggested that the pair have a good snog in front of Sirius's mother to see if the "old bitch would just fall over dead". Remus had rolled his eyes while Sirius and Peter had literally needed to hold their sides due to the pain that came from laughing so hard._

"Moony?"

"Pads, what have you done?"

"Remus, please tell me you knocked up some witch fifteen or so years ago and that's your kid."

Hearing his name— _both_ of them—Remus turned and stared, wide-eyed into the faces of . . . He didn't exactly know _who_ he was staring at. A tall man with greying sandy hair and a myriad of scars running across his face and neck, wearing long tattered brown robes, fiercely gripping a familiar wand. The other man . . . _Sirius_. It _had_ to be.

"S-Sirius?" Remus whispered, staring into the aged face of his best friend.

Sirius covered his mouth and whispered. "Oh, fuck," before slowly stepping forward.

The man at his side reached a hand out to stop him. "What're you doing? Sirius, you have no idea who this boy—"

Sirius turned and raised an incredulous brow. "Moony," he said. "He's _Moony_. I'd know my best friend anywhere." He turned and faced the boy again, ignoring the other man, who still looked like he wanted to object. "Hey there, Remus," Sirius said with a smile.

Remus swallowed. "That . . . That's _me_?" he asked, looking at the other man. Both men widened their eyes in surprise at the declaration. "Time-Turner," Remus said. "Was that thing a Time-Turner?" he questioned curiously and then ran a hand through his hair. "No, not a Time-Turner. But it was . . . Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?"

Sirius shook his head. "Do you know where you are?"

Remus thought for a long moment, observed his surroundings and then answered. "Grimmauld Place, I think. I've never been here, but you . . . er . . . _Sirius_ told me about it. And I . . . The smells are . . ." He nervously chewed on his bottom lip. "We were celebrating our O.W.L.s. My friends and I broke into Professor Higgs's office and found—"

Sirius's eyes widened. "I remember that," he said with a grin as though pieces to a puzzle were falling into place. "We thought he had a Probity Probe! And Peter almost broke a . . . That's where I saw that! That ball! I remember it! Wormtail almost broke it back in fifth year! Remember? Prongs tossed it to me, and I threw it at you—"

Remus nodded. "I caught it, but it cut my hand open and then started glowing."

The other man furrowed his brows. "I don't remember that. No. I didn't catch it. It was too far away, and so I used my wand to levitate it back to the desk," he said and then turned to look at Sirius. "Did you steal it?" he asked his friend with narrowed eyes.

Sirius scratched the top of his head. "I nicked a lot of things back in those days. Brought it all back home. I guess my mother packed up my room and threw all the junk up here. But wait, if _you_ caught it," he said, turning back to the younger wizard, "but _you_ didn't," he said to the elder. "I'm . . . I'm confused."

"I think," the older Lupin said with a frown, "that something changed in the past. Let's all put our wands away and sit down somewhere to talk. I need to send word to Dumbledore, though. This could cause a lot of problems. Don't say a word to _him_ ," he said, looking at Remus, "about anything that could . . . change things."

Sirius looked confused for a moment and then his mouth fell open and his eyes widened. "Not even—"

"No," Remus insisted. "Pads, if we're able to send him back without altering the timeline, we can't risk changing things. Who knows how much worse we'll be if . . . if . . ." He frowned, a deep, grief-stricken expression that the younger took notice of immediately. "Just take him downstairs," the elder insisted before moving out the door at a brisk pace, flicking his wand quickly and summoning a silvery wolf-shaped Patronus.

"What year is it?" Remus asked after a long moment of silence.

Sirius looked up, a heavy expression on his face as well. "Umm . . . 1996."

"Twenty years," Remus whispered. "I want to ask so many questions but I take it that he . . . er . . . _I_ . . . don't want you to answer any of them."

Sirius only nodded, the grief and guilt painted on his face with obvious brush strokes that made Remus feel unbelievably apprehensive about being there, not that the time travel wasn't jarring on its own. "Are you really Pads?"

Looking at the boy, Sirius offered a small, sad smile. "It's me, Moony. Just older and . . . different. Need me to prove it?"

Remus looked a bit guilty about requesting such a thing, but it had been a bit of a confusing night already. "If you wouldn't mind."

Sirius thought for a moment. "Well, if the whole knowing you're a werewolf thing isn't enough to go on, I could say . . . Let's see . . . fifth year," he muttered, slowly contemplating his words. "Oh! After we won the Quidditch Cup at the end of fifth year, I got pissed on firewhisky in the common room. Prongs had gone to bed, slept with the Cup in his arms," he said, chuckling at the memory. "And Lily came down to scold me for singing so loudly. Called me a cad and a nuisance and a bunch of other things. I was so drunk, I didn't even know who she was." A very small, wistful smile that came over him. "And I kissed her."

Remus smiled at the man. "And then she hexed you."

Sirius pulled back the long, black hair from his neck, revealing the smallest little scar behind his ear in the shape of a spiral. "And when I sobered up, I felt so guilty that I ran upstairs, woke you up, and confessed it all."

Remus nodded. "And then you swore me to secrecy. Because it would have broken James's heart."

Sirius wiped at his eyes which were now a bit moist. "Yeah."

There was another long moment of silence, and Remus cleared his throat. "Did it?"

"Did what?"

"Did it break his heart when he found out?"

Sirius raised a brow. "What makes you think he found out?"

Remus snorted. "Because you two can't keep secrets from one another."

Sirius barked a laugh. "You're right there. No, it didn't break his heart. He laughed it off, asked Lily if I was a good kisser and then, when she jokingly said she'd never had better than me, he spent a good hour trying to prove otherwise. The man never could hold a proper grudge. Not against me," he said and then frowned.

Remus, somehow understanding more than he wanted to just by the tone of Sirius's voice and the expression on his face, muttered, "I . . . I don't think I want to know about the future."

Sirius only nodded in reply and then cleared his throat. "Let's go wait for Dumbledore."

* * *

"Fascinating," the old wizard said as he stared into Remus's eyes, his own twinkling with amusement and mirth and a bit of joy as though Remus were a gift from the Fates that had been dropped on his doorstep. "Forgive me, young Mister Lupin, I know you must be terribly confused as to what's likely happened to you."

"Time-Turner?" Remus asked quietly as he looked up at his headmaster who was hovering over him as he sat there in the large leather wingback chair of the library.

It had not taken long for Dumbledore to show up once Remus's older self sent word. He was still a bit confused as to how he was able to leave Hogwarts so quickly but didn't say a thing about it. Who was _he_ to question Albus Dumbledore? The headmaster had not, unfortunately, come alone. A swarm of adults had Remus surrounded, asking questions and pointing their wands in his face until Sirius threatened to throw them all out into the street, only after he planned on transfiguring their appendages into bits of wood, rubber chickens, and squeaky toys.

"Time-Turners can only go backward," a tall man that had been introduced as Kingsley said. "Not only that, but wouldn't his very existence here have changed things?" he asked and turned to the older Lupin. "The twenty years of your life between then and now would have been erased. Unless we find a way to send him back—even then, we'd need to Obliviate him."

Both Remuses tensed at the suggestion.

"If he came forward from 1976," an old, gruff-looking Auror with one eye growled, "then Lupin, _older_ Lupin, would have remembered it. There would be signs of Obliviation on him if that's what happened, Shacklebolt. As Lupin still _has_ his memory intact, that's not the case. Still, the boy poses a serious security problem!"

"Go clean your eye, Moody," a young, purple-haired witch insisted. "You always get cranky when that thing gets dusty." She smiled at Remus in a way that made him slightly uncomfortable, especially since her gaze occasionally turned to his older self. "He's just a kid. No older than Harry or the others."

"Who's Harry?" Remus muttered, disliking his lack of participation in the conversation.

Everyone fell silent, and the old Auror turned and narrowed his one good eye at him. "Never you mind that. Where did you say you got the ball from?"

"An old Defence Professor's office." Sirius turned and looked at Dumbledore. "Don't tell Minerva. She's likely to give me retroactive detention," he said, and the old man chuckled in reply.

"Which Professor?" Moody asked.

"Higgs," Lupin answered. "He left at the end of our fifth year."

Dumbledore nodded. "Magorian Higgs left his post as Defence Professor because he'd been offered an exclusive position within the Department of Mysteries," he said and, at his words, everyone in the room seemed to tense. "He was quite the inventor. Had a great interest in time and space. I wouldn't be surprised if that little ball wasn't an invention of his own making. Of course, I don't actually _know_ any of this," he added with a sly smile. "He was, after all, an Unspeakable."

" _Was_?" Lupin asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "Died of unknown causes some eight or nine years back."

Remus frowned. "Does that mean I can't go back?"

Everyone fell silent.

"I believe it would be best to incorporate young Mister Lupin into our own time. We can search far and wide for means to return him to his own but . . ." Dumbledore paused as though he realised he was speaking about Remus as though the boy weren't even there. He turned and frowned at him. "I apologise, Remus, but there have been circumstances in our time where time travel back more than a few hours would have come in terribly handy. I've had people researching for quite a number of years." He sighed and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I don't believe it's possible."

Before Remus could process what that meant for him, the old Auror grumbled under his breath and then repeated his words louder. "You don't mean to just send him off to Hogwarts like he's _ordinary_ , do you?"

"Because he's a werewolf?" Sirius growled defensively.

Moody scoffed. "Because he's a _time-traveller_ , Black. Don't get snippy with me. I give a hair for how many dogs live in this house," he said pointedly. "So long as they're properly chained up come full moon. Hell, half the bloody witches I know turn into right harpies as the moon waxes and wanes."

The purple-haired witch snorted indelicately, rolling her eyes. "Right, must be the moon," she said sarcastically. "Couldn't have a thing to do with your sweet demeanour."

Dumbledore held up a hand, and the room fell silent once more. "I believe it is up to young Mister Lupin as to what his future entails. He will have to be caught up on past and current events," he said and looked at Sirius and Lupin who both lowered their eyes as though the assignment were the most miserable thing they could have been given. "And then, perhaps, if you so choose," he went on, returning his attention to Remus, "you could continue your formal education at Hogwarts at the start of the next term. We'll have to come up with a story to tell the masses as to who you are and where you've been all these years. Perhaps a long lost son of yours, Remus," he said and looked back at Lupin.

"M-My _what_?" Lupin blinked at the headmaster.

Dumbledore smiled and said, "Well, you can't deny that there is a bit of a family resemblance." Sirius laughed loudly. "In the meantime, I believe it would be best for _young_ Remus to stay here, under protection with Sirius until we can work out the current issues with Hogwarts and a few unfortunate situations we've stumbled into this year."

"Speaking of . . . _issues_ ," Sirius said. "Any word on Harry?"

Remus perked up at the name again and the look of worry and affection on Sirius's face. He gathered that whoever this Harry was, he was likely Sirius's son. Remus almost laughed at the idea of Sirius being a father. It made him wonder about his older self, who wasn't wearing a wedding ring—and rightly so; _who would actually want to marry a werewolf?_ His gaze flickered briefly to the purple-haired witch, staring doe-eyed at his older self, the roots of her hair turning a bright bubblegum pink that, for some reason, caused the man to blush.

"I've been informed that, despite Dolores's efforts to impede the student's education in regards to Defence Against the Dark Arts, the majority of the fifth years have done stupendously well in their O.W.L. exams, both in written and practical. Harry, apparently, even produced a lovely Patronus for extra points."

Remus took note that both Sirius and Lupin looked exceptionally proud at the news. He, himself, frowned a bit. While he had not learned what his own O.W.L. results had been, he knew he had done quite well in Defence and was told by Professor Higgs that he was at the top of the class in that particular subject. Still, he could not conjure a Patronus at such a young age and felt slightly bitter that someone else could.

* * *

Remus watched from the stairs as the adults all exited the drawing room through what had recently been a silenced and imperturbed door, having excused him to go and relax in the library or roam the house on his own while they discussed private business. Most stopped to shake his hand or pat him on the shoulder as they left, and the now-pink-haired witch pulled him into an uncomfortably tight hug before turning and winking at his older counterpart, chuckling under her breath as she followed the one-eyed Auror out the front door.

"I will have word sent to Severus," Dumbledore said, the name drawing Remus's attention immediately, "and see if he could trouble himself to brew a double amount of Wolfsbane Potion this month."

Lupin smiled gratefully. "That would be wonderful, Albus, thank you."

Dumbledore turned and put his hand on Remus's shoulder. "It will not be an easy adjustment. There are many truths that you will not be pleased to hear. But I hope you'll know that I believe you will prove to be very important here in this timeline. And I look forward to seeing your life, this . . . second chance, if you will, turn out will fewer hardships than before."

Remus nodded and looked over Dumbledore's shoulder, glancing at his older self who, despite being a few months younger than Sirius, _appeared_ at least ten years older. Life had taken its toll on the man, and Dumbledore apparently knew how and why. Remus figured that the headmaster saw his being there as an escape from whatever his older self had gone through.

"Thank you, sir," he managed to whisper.

When the door closed behind the last person, leaving Remus alone with Sirius and Lupin, he looked up nervously. "What's Wolfsbane Potion?"

Sirius grinned. "Oh, mate, you're in for a bit of a treat there. I think we should keep it a secret. Make it a surprise."

Lupin rolled his eyes.

Remus nodded, not wanting to argue the point; too exhausted to bother.

"Do you have any questions, just . . . We'll tell you everything we can, but, I imagine there are a few things that are right at the top of your mind," Lupin said, looking uncomfortable, as though he were trying to delay the inevitable.

Remus paused and then looked up at the pair. "Are umm . . . Are you two . . ." Sirius and Remus blinked. "I mean, _I'm_ not. Not that there's anything wrong with it but . . . are you . . . together?" Remus raised a confused brow and Sirius laughed. "No offence," he said when his older self seemed to finally catch on, attempting to stammer out a reply. "I mean, _I'm_ not bent, which I suppose should mean that _you're_ not as well, but you two seem awfully . . . And this whole thing is a bit confusing, and who knows what could have happened in twenty years."

"I'm n-not . . ." Lupin stammered a bit, his cheeks flush. "Not that I care either way, but even if I _were_ , I could do better than _this_ mongrel," he said, and gestured to Sirius.

Sirius grinned. "You wish you were that lucky, Moony."

Lupin rolled his eyes. "No, we are not together. We're both single," he said, answering Remus's unspoken follow-up questions.

It was Sirius's turn to roll his eyes. "Moony here has a thing for my cousin."

"The purple-haired witch? Tonks, was it?" Remus asked, and Lupin made a loud huffing noise. "She's pretty. Not _my_ type," he added. "At least I wouldn't have thought so. She's a bit too old for me," he said, and then smirked, a teasing smirk that showed how very much a Marauder he was at heart.

"Too old for one werewolf, too young for another," Sirius said with a laugh. "Poor little Tonks."

Lupin growled, and both Remus and Sirius laughed. The younger man felt a tension in his shoulders slowly dissipate at the feel of laughter. It felt like home. "Okay, so who's Harry then? Your son?" He turned and looked at Sirius.

The laughter died away.

Sirius frowned. "My . . . My _godson_. Harry. He's . . . You'll meet him. I hope you'll be friends. He's a good lad. He needs . . . Merlin, he needs a friend like you."

Lupin smiled softly. "He already has a friend like him. Like _me_ ," he corrected and then waved off the confusion with a sigh before raking his hands through his greying hair. "But one more voice of reason wouldn't hurt, that's for certain."

Remus frowned as a few thoughts crossed his mind. "Godson," he repeated the word. "James," he said knowingly and Sirius nodded. "D-Do I want to know what happened?"

Sirius shook his head. "No," he replied. "But you'll find out one way or another."

Lupin sat down next to Remus and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's a long story," he said and watched as Sirius disappeared through the door, only to return moments later with a bottle of firewhisky and three glasses. He poured them each a bit, leaving Remus's glass only a fourth as full as the other two.

Remus shook his head. "James was there . . . Just hours ago we were at Hogwarts, and he was laughing. Using that dumb glass ball to play fetch with you." Sirius smiled sadly down at him while sipping the amber liquid. "Everything was normal and we were all just kids . . . celebrating our bloody O.W.L.s. You were teasing me about Mary MacDonald—"

Lupin groaned in embarrassment. "I'd forgotten about that."

"—and I was scolding James about Lily and what happened with Snape. And then Peter went and—"

_SMASH!_

Remus startled, eyes wide as he looked up just in time to watch Sirius launch his glass tumbler across the room, shattering it against the opposite wall, spilling bits of glass and firewhisky all over the floor. He turned, eyes toward his older friend, seeing a darkness there, a . . . _madness_ there, that he had never before seen. The hand on his shoulder gripped tighter, and he felt strangely comforted by the werewolf at his back.

"Sirius," Remus said. "What happened to James? Where's Peter?"

Sirius took a deep breath to try and calm himself, but it did not seem to work. "James . . . James died."

Despite already having figured it out himself, the words sliced through Remus's heart like a hot knife as he remembered first meeting the young Potter at the Sorting feast. He had sat across the table from the messy-haired boy who tried to barter with him for the last slice of treacle tart, attempting to sell him his untouched brussel sprouts in exchange for the pudding. Remus had laughed at his terrible offer, despite the well-versed sales pitch, and ended up giving it to him anyway because he so desperately wanted a friend. James smiled and split the tart into two pieces, giving him one-half before introducing him to Sirius who had been busy flipping rude gestures across the Great Hall to his Slytherin cousins.

_Dead._

_James was dead._

Remus forced himself not to cry as he swallowed down the burning pain. "And . . . Peter?" he asked nervously.

Sirius growled low and deep. "Dead. _Soon_ he'll be dead, if I have anything to say about it."

Remus's mouth fell open in shock, and he turned quickly to face Lupin who shared a portion of Sirius's wrath in his expression; though much more controlled, it was none the less menacing. Remus stared into the eyes of his older self and was shocked when he was met with gold. "What happened?"

Lupin clenched his teeth, closed his eyes, and whispered, "War."


	3. Chapter 3

**June 1996  
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place**

Remus curled himself into a tight ball on the twin bed he had been told could be his for now. Apparently, the room that "the boys" slept in had not been cleaned since summer, and the one that "the twins" had once shared was tripped with a myriad of pranks that both Sirius and Lupin were not in the mood to disassemble just then. So, he had been given "the girls" room because it was the cleanest, and Sirius had not opened Regulus's old bedroom since returning to Grimmauld Place.

"His brother's death is still hard for him," Lupin said.

Because Regulus Black was, apparently, dead. Remus had a hard time swallowing that. The boy, to him, was barely fifteen years old and, despite being a bit of a prat, he had done nothing more but join in with typical House rivalries in the Great Hall and at Quidditch matches. No. He had grown up—and not even very much—to be a Death Eater who died in the service of Voldemort.

That was another thing Remus was having trouble adjusting to.

"Destroyed everything," Lupin said. "We were at war. I know it was just rumours where you come from, but that summer, everything started going downhill. Death Eaters were reported attacking Muggle-borns in the streets. So many people were hurt. So many people died."

"We joined the Order of the Phoenix," Sirius told him and, when Lupin gave him a reproachful look, he snapped, "What? It's not like he won't figure it out living here with me until Dumbledore ships him off to Hogwarts; that is, if we can oust that toady cunt from the place."

Umbridge, Remus learned, was someone that he should take a personal vendetta against considering the kind of laws she had tried—and sometimes succeeded—putting in place regarding werewolves. Dolores Umbridge who worked for the Ministry and had taken over the school at Minister Fudge's behest when Voldemort was resurrected the year before and the Minister refused to accept that they were at war again.

Because they had been to war, it ended, and they were back at war again.

"How'd it end the first time?" Remus asked.

"Harry," Sirius whispered. "Lily."

The unbearable pain Remus felt knowing that James was dead was lifted only slightly in knowing that—somehow by the grace of Merlin himself—James Potter had figured out how to get Lily Evans to fall in love with him. And they had been in love. He knew because he specifically asked.

"So much," Lupin told him. "She loved him _so_ much."

"He loved her. More than anything in the world," Sirius said softly, bringing a third glass of firewhisky to his lips. "And then there was a proph—" he tried to say, but Lupin had cut him off. Remus was only sixteen and was not a member of this Order of the Phoenix and, therefore, not privy to certain bits of information. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Sirius had meant to say prophecy, something that caused Remus both intrigue and a sense of dread.

Sirius growled at the older werewolf and amended his statement while rolling his eyes. "Voldemort decided that Prongs, Lily, and Harry were his enemies, so he put a bloody bullseye on their backs," he said bitterly, shaking the new tumbler in his hand, sloshing liquor over the sides of the cup, onto his hand, and the floor.

Watching his best friend, this man who was utterly broken, descend further into despair right in front of his eyes was heart wrenching. Remus wanted to reach out, take the glass from Sirius's hands, and tell him that everything would be okay. But _this_ was not the Sirius he was used to. He was not broken because he had just spent the hols with his shitty parents who called him a disgraced and smacked him around more than Sirius would ever admit. Remus could not hug him close and silence his four-poster bed in the middle of the night to save his friend's dignity when he started crying in his sleep.

This man, _this_ Sirius, had been broken in ways Remus did not know how to fix.

From the look of things, Lupin was at a loss as well.

"No!" Remus had yelled when Sirius told him that Peter was a Death Eater. "He wouldn't do that to us! He's our friend!"

" _Was_ our friend," Lupin whispered. "Was our best friend, and he still betrayed us all."

"Maybe . . . Maybe there was a mistake. Maybe . . ." Remus tried to reason, unable to bear the thought that Peter, little harmless Peter, had joined a blood-purist maniac; had used his Animagus gifts—that he learned as an act of kindness for Remus himself—to spy on his friends and their cause; had manipulated and lied and accepted the offer to be Secret Keeper only to turn on them all.

"Voldemort held the wand, but _Peter_ killed Lily and James," Sirius said firmly, gripping Remus by the shoulders as the boy finally let a few angry tears spill over onto his cheeks. The wolf inside him was confused over the emotions, not understanding the words, but still mourning the destruction of his pack, the deaths of his friends. The betrayal lit an anger so deep inside of him he was not sure he could come out of it clean.

"I don't want to know any more," Remus said through stifled sobs, pulling his knees to his chest as though he were eleven again and terrified of going to Hogwarts for the first time, begging his parents not to send him away where he would be alone during the full moons, where he would be too close to too many people and subjected to the possibility of hurting someone, of _infecting_ someone. He felt eleven again and not the sixteen-year-old wizard that he was who had endured unbearable physical pain but unlimited love in the faces of friends who had become brothers to him.

One brother was dead now. Another broken beyond repair. The last was a traitor. And Remus was adrift in a future that was a tidal wave of nightmares.

Sirius took Remus's hand and squeezed it tight. The boy looked down at his friend's hand, taking in the sight of each and every tattoo, noting a deeply burned mark on the inside of his wrist. "Azkaban," he whispered.

Sirius let go and sighed. "They thought _I_ did it," he said. "They thought _I_ betrayed James and Lily. That _I_ was the one who betrayed them."

Remus looked up in shock and then turned his eyes to the older werewolf. "How long before we got Sirius out of prison?"

 _That_ was when Lupin started drinking too.

* * *

Lupin and other Order members came and went over the following days. Grimmauld Place, Remus learned, was Headquarters, and only Sirius was stuck there permanently because his name had not been cleared of the charges of betraying James and Lily; of murdering his friends; of being a Death Eater despite not bearing the Dark Mark.

Because Peter had framed him and then, apparently, spent twelve years pretending to be some kid's pet rat only to make a run for it when Sirius escaped Azkaban and . . . Remus sighed as he let the new information roll around in his brain. It was all just too much.

He moved through Grimmauld Place like a ghost, floating with no true purpose other than to watch as the living around him ran around trying to better their lives, trying to save innocents, trying to end a war against a tyrant who had somehow come back from the dead. Sirius drank too much and spent his days complaining about being unable to contribute to the efforts that his friends were making; unable to protect his godson, Harry, who he loved.

"That's my boy," Sirius told Remus, holding out a picture of a young wizard who looked the mirror image of James. Harry was smaller in stature, skinnier, but with the same wild hair sticking up in every which direction.

"He looks like Prongs," Remus said with a smile. "Except for the—"

"Eyes," Sirius said and nodded. "Yeah. He got Lily's eyes."

Remus looked up. "Those two, but I was going to say glasses. Prongs didn't wear glasses."

Sirius raised a brow. "What? Of course he did."

It was little things like that that made Remus wonder if Dumbledore's time travel theory wasn't a touch off. Things like James not wearing glasses when Sirius insisted that he did. Things like Peter's bed back at Hogwarts being the one under the window instead of the one nearest the door. Things like Sirius being right-handed when Remus remembered him wielding his wand with the left.

He read a lot. Mostly to catch up on the history he had missed but also to keep up on his studies if, in fact, Dumbledore planned on keeping his word about letting Remus go back to Hogwarts the following year, pretending that Lupin was his father.

Two days after arriving in 1996, he had been introduced to a red-headed man and a beautiful blond woman: Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour. He had shaken Bill's hand and blushed when Fleur kissed both of his cheeks in greeting.

Fleur's French accent came out thick, her words too fast when she said, "I understand that you have need of a mother."

Remus furrowed his brow, offended. "A muzzle?"

Sirius chuckled from behind him.

Fleur smiled sheepishly, and tried again, this time enunciating for the boy. "No,  a . . . mother; a witch to be opposite for fake father," she said, gesturing to Lupin.

"Oh!" Remus said, understanding. "I suppose. I figured the story would be that I was raised by her, and she died, so that's why I'm going to Hogwarts so late." He was unsure of why he was so talkative, but she really was very pretty and smelled so very sweet and her eyes looked like the ocean after a—

"Ease up there, Moony." Sirius chuckled, placing a hand on Remus's shoulder. "Fleur, sweetheart, you mind holding back a touch?"

The blonde smirked. "Sorry. It is a habit."

Remus raised a confused brow.

"Fleur's part veela," Bill said. "And _I'm_ very lucky," he added with a smug grin that had Sirius laughing.

The blonde gently poked Bill in the ribs and turned her attention back to Remus. "As I was saying. You are in need of a mother, and I have a cousin who just passed on. She lived alone for many years and was not very well known, only that she was a Delacour. Emilie Delacour. She could have been your mother."

Remus frowned. "Emilie was my real mother's middle name," he said softly.

"Oh." Fleur frowned. "You sweet boy," she said and placed her hands on his cheeks. "Perhaps it was meant to be."

* * *

Fleur and Tonks were not the only witches involved with the Order that took an interest in Remus. When the sound of Apparition was heard early one evening, Remus turned his head up from the game of Exploding Snap he was playing with Sirius, the smell of roast beef wafting through the door.

Sirius took a large gulp of his firewhisky. "Hope you're ready for _this_ ," he said with a chuckle before standing up and getting out of the way.

Remus's first impression of Molly Weasley was that she was a full-figured witch that did not realise her tight hugs often pressed strange boys faces in awkward places as she yanked him down and tried to smother him with whatever love she felt he _must_ have had missing from his life. He tried to turn his face and pry himself out of her grip, even as Sirius smirked at him from the other side of the room where he was peeking inside the large covered dish that Molly had brought with her, sneaking out a chunk of beef and licking his fingers clean.

"Look at you, you poor little thing," Molly said, cupping Remus's face in her hands, ignoring the fact that he stood a good seven inches taller than her and was by no means "little."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Weasley," Remus said, clearing his throat and stepping out of her grip, a bit of discomfort written on his face considering his own mother had not held him that tightly since before he had been infected. In fact, aside from the few witches that broke his walls during the week leading up to the full moon, the only people that ever got so close to him physically were Sirius, James, and Peter.

"Much too skinny," Molly declared. "You come and eat up all you'd like, and Sirius Black you get your fingers out of that pot roast right this minute or I'll hex your hands clean off!"

"Well, that'll definitely dampen my social life," Sirius muttered, stepping away from the food while Molly served up a heaping portion for Remus, practically shoving him into an empty seat around the large dining table where other Order members were gathering. Lupin sat across from him next to Tonks who—if Remus was not mistaken—was trying to play footsie with the older werewolf. Fleur and Bill sat side by side, despite Molly trying to split them apart by creating a seating arrangement that was completely ignored. Sirius took the head of the table between Lupin and Kingsley, and Molly's husband Arthur sat down beside Remus, offering him a tight handshake and a bright smile.

"So good to meet you, son," Arthur said enthusiastically. "Albus says you'll be attending Hogwarts next year? You'll be in the same year as my boy, Ron," he said with a proud smile. "You'll get to meet Harry and Hermione as well. Good kids, all of them."

"That's the plan," Remus said, nodding his head politely as he tried desperately to keep up with the conversations while not speaking with food in his mouth. "At least, Professor Dumbledore hopes so. I've been told there's been some problems at Hogwarts this year."

"Wretched woman," Molly uttered under her breath. "The things the twins told me when they came home."

Sirius smirked. "How are Fred and George?"

Molly looked up and glared. "Don't you start with me," she said, pursing her lips. "Those two have gone off thinking that they're going to open up a joke shop," she said with exasperation. "A joke shop, I tell you. And I'll blame the two of you for encouraging them," she added, flipping her hand at Lupin and Sirius.

"I have done no such thing," Lupin insisted.

"Never," Sirius agreed and, after a long bout of silence, asked, "Did they _really_ invent a firework that spells 'Poo'?"

Remus, against his better judgement, laughed.

* * *

When the Order left, and Molly Weasley had asked him a fifth time if he was still hungry and if Sirius was behaving himself, Remus retired to his room, digging out a few books that had made their way beneath the bed. An old worn copy of _Hogwarts, a History_ , and a book on Advanced Transfiguration with a red and gold bookmark in the chapter on Animagi, with the initials "H.J.G." on it.

He read every night until he tired himself out and fought to sleep through Sirius's shouts of nightmares. The first night he had heard them, he had gone to help only to find the bedroom door locked. Lupin explained that Sirius did not like people knowing about the nightmares—knowing how affected he had been by the Dementors of Azkaban.

He wanted to help but Lupin said, "He needs to ask for it. He needs that. Needs independence. Too much of it has already been taken away," as though he had already tried before, repeatedly, to be turned away with a bitter scowl or a snappy, sarcastic remark.

He thought about throwing up a Silencing Charm but felt that he somehow owed Sirius to be there, to witness the screams and the cries. Despite not having abandoned his friend to Azkaban himself, Remus took it as a personal offence that Lupin had not stood up, had not fought, had not done anything to free their best friend from prison when he had been framed.

"I thought he'd done it," Lupin said, clearly still miserable over his poor judgement all these years later. "It was a confusing time. We weren't . . . We weren't as close as we'd been back then. As we are now," he said with a sigh.

"Sirius would never have betrayed James," Remus insisted.

Lupin nodded and then sadly whispered, "There was a time I would have said the same of Peter."

Remus rested his head back against the pillow of the twin bed he had chosen, the one right below the window where he could look up at the stars, at the moon even, a habit he had developed long ago almost as a sick and twisted countdown to the days when he would transform. Now, he stared out the window, a stranger's book in his hand, a strange sky overhead, and a strangely comforting scent on the sheets. Oranges and rose oil. He breathed it in deep every night and let it lull him to sleep, wishing the morning brought hope with the rising sun.

* * *

**June 18th, 1996**

The Order was very busy, and Remus was left to himself most days and nights. Talk of missions and things needing to be taken care of always seemed to put Sirius in a foul mood, and it was, unfortunately, helpful when his friend drank himself to sleep most nights. Occasionally Sirius locked himself up in a room where he kept a fully grown hippogriff; _that_ had been a surprise to stumble across.

The night before had been positively miserable.

Word had reached Grimmauld Place where Sirius, Remus, Lupin, and Arthur and Molly Weasley were having dinner, graciously prepared by the red-headed witch, when a lynx-shaped Patronus entered the room and a deep resonating voice came out of its mouth informing them that there had been a problem at Hogwarts. The Umbridge woman, who Remus had already developed a genuine disdain for despite never even meeting the witch, had attempted to sack Hagrid when Professor McGonagall intervened on his behalf. It earned her several stunners to the chest by Aurors— _actual_ Aurors.

Arthur and Molly bitterly mumbled to themselves about the injustice of it all, while Lupin did his best to contain Sirius. The man had been halfway through the fireplace, wand in one hand, glass of firewhisky in the other, and hell-bent on vengeance. Remus did not blame him. Hagrid was a friend and Professor McGonagall was a second mother to the Marauders, especially Sirius and Remus who struggled with family issues at home. James had lovely, devoted parents who took in any stray that would let them, and Sirius often eagerly took advantage of their hospitality. When they were at Hogwarts, it was Minerva McGonagall who guided them as they grew from boys into men; it was Minerva McGonagall who taught them magic and manners and tried to instill values and integrity—her words often falling on deaf ears; it was Minerva McGonagall who was at their bedsides in the hospital wing when James broke his arm during a bad Quidditch match, or when Sirius was ambushed by Slytherins outside the Potions classroom. It was Minerva McGonagall who held Remus's hand when he was eleven years old, waking up from a full moon for the first time in his whole life without his mother there to dry his tears.

Remus was tempted to go _with_ Sirius through the Floo Network and raise a little hell himself on behalf of the witch.

"Don't be stupid," Lupin told Sirius as he dragged him out of the fireplace by his arm. "Think of Harry. You're a wanted man, and you'll be arrested and thrown back in Azkaban. Or worse, they'll give you to the Dementors. You want me to explain to Harry why his godfather was Kissed?"

Remus felt something awful sink in the pit of his stomach at the thought, and he stepped forward, aiding the older werewolf in calming Sirius down. Lupin was right. Sirius could not leave the house. He was too reckless.

Which was why, the following night, when Remus stumbled upon something he knew he needed to report, he went to Lupin instead of his friend.

Bitter and bored, Sirius had locked himself back upstairs with the hippogriff, leaving the werewolves to roam the library and other areas of Grimmauld Place. Remus, hungry for a snack, made his way down to the kitchen where he heard voices, which was strange as most Order meetings took place in the large dining room as of late, and people usually came to say hello first.

Remus could hear the house-elf, Kreacher, cackling beyond the door. He walked slowly. He had been told by multiple people—mostly Sirius—not to trust the elf, and he had run into the little thing more than once, always grumbling, scowling, and bitterly complaining about one thing or another—usually something in regards to Sirius being a stain on the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black who let blood-traitors and Mudbloods and beasts—he assumed meant him and Lupin—into the old home. Hearing the elf laugh was unnerving in the worst way.

"Kreacher, has he gone to the Department of Mysteries?" a boy's voice sounded through the room, and Remus's eyebrows raised, shocked at how similar it sounded to James. _It has to be Harry,_ he thought.

"Master does not tell poor Kreacher where he is going," the elf said quietly.

"But you know! Don't you? You know where he is!"

Kreacher cackled again. "Master will not come back from the Department of Mysteries!" he said gleefully. "Kreacher and his mistress are alone again!"

Remus held in a growl and reached for the door just as it opened and the house-elf stepped through, looking up and widening his eyes at the sight of Remus before glaring at him. Remus, without a word, pushed his way past Kreacher and rushed into the kitchen just in time to hear a loud yelp from the fireplace, where he saw the vague image of what could only be Harry Potter—who looked so much like James—disappear.

Before Kreacher could get away, Remus drew his wand on the elf and shouted, " _Stupefy_!"

He swallowed nervously, watching as the elf crumpled to the floor, and briefly thought about rushing up the stairs to find Sirius and tell him what he had heard. He remembered, however, how quickly Sirius had tried to leave the house the night before, giving no thought to his actions and the consequences of those actions. Too brash. Too reckless. He could very easily see how his friend, lost in grief, had left Godric's Hollow—left Harry Potter in Hagrid's care—to chase down Peter.

And that action had landed him in prison.

"Lupin!" Remus said as he ran to the library, gasping for breath. "We have a big problem. I think Kreacher did something. I think . . . I think Harry Potter is in trouble."

The old werewolf jumped to his feet immediately. "What happened?"

Remus bit his lip. "He was in the fireplace talking to the elf, asking where Sirius was. Kreacher said . . . He said that Sirius had gone to the Department of Mysteries, and that he wouldn't be coming back. I stunned him just in case."

At the mention of the Department, Lupin's face paled. "Oh shit," he whispered. "We need to tell Sirius."

"No!" Remus snapped. "Whatever's happened . . . I think Sirius needs to be left out of it. You saw him last night. He'll get himself captured or worse."

Lupin shook his head. "If Harry's in danger, Sirius needs-—"

"If Harry's in danger, he has the Order to protect him. So get _them_. Get Dumbledore. Sirius'll just make things worse, and you know it. And I . . . I can't let him go to prison. Not again," he said firmly. "James would say the same thing."

Lupin bristled a bit. "James would have been at Sirius's side running into the fray."

"And look where that got everyone," Remus pointed out. "Go save Harry. I'll distract Sirius if he even comes out of his room."

Lupin sighed. "He's going to be furious with us."

Remus nodded. "I know. I don't care."


	4. Chapter 4

**June 1996**

Lupin had been right. Sirius was furious.

The older werewolf had sent a Patronus off to the rest of the Order while Remus shoved an unconscious house-elf inside a small cupboard. Before Lupin left to join Kingsley, Moody, and Tonks—the only members that had sent back any kind of reply—he cast a sleeping spell on Kreacher in case the traitorous thing woke up and made a run for whoever he had betrayed Sirius to. "Likely Bellatrix or Narcissa," Lupin had said before Disapparating from the front step of number twelve.

Remus paced inside, glancing up the staircase and praying to whatever gods would listen that Sirius would not come down until whatever ordeal was happening was over with. Unfortunately, that did not work out too well when the man stormed down the steps, a mirror clutched in his hand.

"What's going on?" Remus asked nervously, ducking to the side and out of Sirius's warpath as the older wizard blazed through the hallway, nearly blasting the kitchen door off its hinges as he made his way to the fireplace, ignoring Remus as he followed behind.

"Harry Potter!" Sirius shouted into the mirror that Remus immediately recognised as one-half of the two-way communicating mirrors that Sirius and James used to speak to one another whenever Professor McGonagall would separate them during detention. When no one answered Sirius's call, he growled fiercely and threw Floo powder into the fireplace. "The Den!" he shouted and then stuck his head inside. "Remus! Moony! You there?!"

"Sirius? What's going on?"

With a frustrated snarl, Sirius pulled himself out of the green flames and looked at him. "You seen . . . er, yourself?" he asked, his eyes filled with stress and worry.

Remus swallowed. "He umm . . . stopped by earlier. Said he had some Order business to deal with," he said, bending the truth and feeling like shit for it. He had lied to Sirius before and knew that his friend lied right back but never about anything like this. And never in such dire circumstances.

"Fuck!" Sirius yelled. "I put a safety ward on Harry before he went back to Hogwarts. Right after Christmas. Lets me know if he's hurt or . . . It's not . . . entirely legal," he added, looking not in the slightest bit guilty. "Damned thing woke me up like a Caterwauling Charm going off in my head not five minutes ago. But I can't leave this bloody house, and _someone_ is supposed to be here to go and check on him since _I_ can't!"

Remus winced. "I . . . Sirius . . . I think he's in the Department of Mysteries." At Sirius's confused expression, he confessed the entire tale, going so far as to open the cupboard where he had stashed the unconscious Kreacher.

Luckily for Remus, Sirius was not _completely_ out of his mind that he would cause harm to his own best friend, twenty years removed or not. He _was_ mad enough to scream and yell and say hurtful things that Remus did not take to heart; Sirius was furious and rightly so. He yelled and shouted obscenities right up to the point where he was stopped from Disapparating to the Ministry of Magic by Tonks. She showed up on the doorstep, looking battle worn with cuts and scrapes on her arms and face, a deep blue shade of hair, and red eyes, though from crying instead of morphing.

"What happened?" Sirius asked, clutching at his chest, anticipating the worst.

"Kingsley's dead. I've . . . I've come to get you. Dumbledore's orders," she said and then looked to Remus. "You as well. Can't leave you alone now, can we?" She tried to offer him a smile but failed miserably at faking one.

"What the fuck happened?" Sirius asked, his anger briefly leaving him only to be replaced with sympathy as he pulled his cousin into a hug. "Is Harry all right?"

Tonks nodded slowly as Sirius let her go. " He's alive and healthy," she said and Sirius sagged with immense relief, actually grasping at his chest with one hand and using the other to lean against the wall. "Boy's right angry, though. Somehow, You-Know-Who put an idea in his head that _you'd_ been snatched up and were being tortured in the Department of Mysteries."

Sirius nodded. "Yes, I was recently informed that Harry tried to call here and got the fucking elf," he said, eyeing Remus with an angry disappointment in his gaze.

"Don't be mad at the kid," she told him. "Both Remuses were right about making you stay put. The older one told me what happened."

Sirius growled. "Yeah well, fuck him," he snapped angrily.

She smirked, her eyes lighting up through her grief a small bit. "Don't think I haven't tried," she said with a tired laugh, and Remus blushed. "Don't worry," she told him. "I'm too old for _you_."

"Hypocrite," Sirius pointed out, and Tonks smiled while Remus let out a sigh. "So, what happened?" Seeing that she didn't look to be in a good enough state to Apparate again so soon, and the last thing Sirius needed was to have his little cousin splinch herself on the trip, he offered her a chair. Harry was safe and that was what mattered, so Sirius could wait a few minutes to allow Tonks to catch her breath.

She ran a hand through her blue hair which changed to orange as she swept her fingers along the locks that grew in length with the movement. "Right. Well, Harry went off half-cocked to the Ministry after Hermione apparently sent that Umbridge bitch into the Forbidden Forest, and—"

Sirius blinked. "The forest?"

Tonks laughed. "Dumbledore had to have a little treaty with the centaurs. I don't know all the details, but the old toad crossed that little witch in a bad way. Somehow, she and Harry tricked her into going into the Forbidden Forest where they ran into the centaurs and, well . . . You know how Umbridge feels about . . ." Tonks paused and looked at Remus and frowned. "About some people. I guess they up and dragged her off. Then Harry and Hermione plus Ron, Ginny, and two other kids rode fucking _thestrals_ all the bloody way to London!" she said, almost laughing at the preposterousness of it all. "Sneaked into the Ministry, went into the Department of Mysteries, and completely wrecked the place when Death Eaters showed up."

Sirius growled low and fierce at the mention of Death Eaters. "Who? Who was there?"

Remus could feel his own heart beating, the rage inside of him building as he waited to hear whether or not Wormtail had been present. He was not certain if he wanted to know the outcome if Peter had been there. A part of him, the part that had been with Peter just a few weeks ago, tinkering around in Professor Higgs's office, wanted to know that his friend was safe. But knowing the truth—knowing what had happened and what Wormtail had done—Remus could not help but want to hear that Peter had been killed in the battle or at the very least arrested.

"Malfoy, Nott, Dolohov, Mulciber, Crabbe, Avery, Jugson, Macnair, Rookwood . . . the Lestrange brothers. Most were arrested; that's how I know who was who. But Malfoy got away. Fudge approved a warrant for his arrest and to search Malfoy Manor, but we know what's going on there. _Who's_ living there right now. Can't just go in like we're not walking into a trap."

"Wormtail?" Remus whispered.

Tonks shook her head.

"Bellatrix?" Sirius asked.

She nodded and looked down as tears sprung to her eyes once again. "She killed Kings. I . . . I got her, right in the back. She'll live, unfortunately, but hopefully, she'll spend the rest of her life right back in Azkaban where she belongs. That is, if she doesn't escape again."

Sirius looked like he wanted to hit something. Instead, he reached out and pulled his cousin in for a tight hug. "I'm sorry, Dora. I know you and Kings were friends." She nodded and did her best not to cry but let out a sniffle or two. Sirius sighed angrily. "I should have been there."

Tonks snorted and stared at him, wide-eyed. "I'm bloody glad you _weren't_! Sirius, we were outnumbered. It's only because Dumbledore showed up that _any_ of us survived. Fuck . . . if you were there . . ." She shuddered at the thought. "She would have gone right for you. It was bad. Harry's the least injured of the kids, and when I left he was raging at Dumbledore so loudly, I wouldn't be surprised if someone didn't stun him just to calm him down by the end of the night."

Remus noted immediately that Sirius looked proud at her words.

"Sirius . . . _he_ showed up. You-Know-Who."

Sirius paled at the news. "I want to see Harry," he said immediately.

She nodded. "But, first . . . Sirius, Remus was injured," she said and looked quickly to the younger werewolf. " _Other_ Remus, obviously. He'll live, but . . . it was pretty bad. Malfoy and Bella both hit him. We thought it was a Killing Curse 'cause he fell down some stairs and didn't move. Turns out, it was just a rough stunner, and then he hit his head when he fell. Harry saw it happen and thought that Remus had . . . He went mad, he did," she said, eyes wide. "Went after Malfoy, screaming a few spells I ain't going to repeat or report if you get my meaning." She eyed her cousin carefully as his posture stiffened in response.

"That's when Bellatrix killed Kingsley. You-Know-Who showed up, and Dumbledore and Harry fought him off. At least, that's what I was told. Was too busy myself arresting bloody Death Eaters and trying to Apparate the other kids back to Hogwarts. They'll all live. Ginny cracked her ankle good, and the other two kids are roughed up and bleeding a bit . . . Ron had something leeching off his arms, and he was all funny in the head, and Madam Pomfrey says it was touch and go for Hermione. She got hit with a nasty curse from Dolohov."

Sirius looked like he had aged another ten years, and Remus felt both guilty and relieved that he had kept the man out of this fray. He could not imagine what would have happened had Sirius faced off against his cousin, or what he would have done had he seen Lupin injured in battle or Harry being attacked by Death Eaters.

"But Harry's all right?"

Tonks nodded. "Shaken up. He held up really well. Quite talented, that kid. He's a natural at duelling."

Sirius smiled sadly. "So was his dad."

Remus frowned at the mention of James.

"It's okay that I leave? You're certain?"

Tonks nodded. "Ministry's busy cleaning up the mess. Fudge saw a good portion there at the end. Saw You-Know-Who with his own two eyes. Tried to apologise to Harry there in front of everyone, admitted he was wrong, and started acting like he was ready to rally the troops around Harry and Dumbledore to go wage war." She scoffed. "As though we haven't been fighting one this whole damn year." She rolled her eyes which turned bright blue with the movement. "When Dumbledore turned to take Harry out of there, Fudge realised his mistakes I suppose, calling them out as liars and such; bloody well begged Harry's forgiveness and asked if there was _anything_ he could do to earn back the trust lost."

Sirius growled. "Unfucking likely."

She smirked. "Don't be too sure about that."

"Why?"

Tonks grinned. "I suppose he thought Harry'd ask for a statement in the _Daily Prophet_ , retracting all the nonsense about him being mental, maybe a gift certificate to Honeydukes. But that kid of yours told Fudge that he wanted the murder of his parents properly investigated. He handed over Pettigrew's name and even offered Pensieve memories of the night that rat confessed what he'd done in the Shrieking Shack. Fudge said he'd put his best Aurors on the case. Harry asked for _your_ freedom in exchange for _his_ forgiveness."

Remus smiled at the news. Harry's actions reminded him so much of something James would have done. Potters always did have a knack for using creative ways to tell people to kiss their arse.

Sirius grinned. "That's my boy."

* * *

They Floo'd directly into Dumbledore's office as it was the only one open, everything still in place, just where the older wizard had left it when Dolores Umbridge and Minister Fudge tried to have him arrested. Now, it would seem, Hogwart's had its true headmaster back, though not everyone was very pleased about the fact.

"You lied to me all year long! You knew . . . knew _everything_ and . . ."

Remus stepped out of the fireplace just as a messy-haired boy stood, glaring at Albus Dumbledore, betrayal in his eyes. _Green eyes_ , Remus noted and immediately remembered studying with Lily Evans just a few weeks earlier, preparing for N.E.W.T.s.

* * *

_"I'm not forgiving him, Remus," Lily said as she cross-referenced her notes with one of the eight books she had opened on the large table in the middle of the library. "He charmed doves to follow me around all day. I assume he thought it would look sweet and come off as romantic, but those blasted things shat all over the school, and Filch glared at me for days afterward as though_ I'd _done it."_

_Remus tried not to laugh, but it was proving difficult. Certainly, the prank had gone a bit too far and he would never confess that he had been the one to help perfect the charm; Lily's temper was a thing of legend and he was not stupid enough to get caught in the crossfire. Still, she eventually figured out how to remove the spell, and then she had somehow managed to vanish all the bird droppings from the floors and drop them on James's head in the middle of Quidditch practice. It was brilliant. Disgusting, but brilliant._

_"Will you forgive_ me _?" he asked her, having a feeling that she knew he had at the very least helped._

_She turned and stared at him, her emerald green eyes sparkling in the light that broke through the nearby window. James was wrong about a lot of things, but Lily Evans being beautiful was not one of them. He himself had developed a crush on her sometime in the middle of third year when she had been paired with him to help improve his Potions marks, but that affection soon blossomed into a true friendship and soon she felt more like a sister than anything._

_"I'll forgive you if you teach me how they did it," she said with a twinkle of mischief in those bright eyes._

_Remus grinned. "You want to get back at him?"_

_She nodded. "Black too. Only instead of doves, I'm thinking owls," she said, laughing, and Remus could tell that she was grinning at the thought of every owl in the school Owlery flying into the Great Hall and circling Sirius and James and pecking them angrily. "Maybe cats," she added. "There are so many cats in the castle. Could you imagine?"_

_"Sirius hates cats," he pointed out._

_"Then it's settled," she said smugly. "After we finished our O.W.L.s, you and I are going to prank your friends. Maybe if I speak Potter's own language, he'll get the hint that I don't like him."_

_Remus rolled his eyes. He knew that James was a prat, but he also knew that Lily purposely provoked him far too often for her own good, and that half the time when James went out of his way to pursue her, she would blush and smile in between hexing him. If James could actually figure out how to talk to the witch like a human, Remus thought they would make a decent pair. The likelihood of that happening though was ridiculously slim._

_"You got it," Remus said with a smile. "After O.W.L.s."_

_They hadn't gotten around to pranking James and Sirius after O.W.L.s, of course. Because his two friends—and Peter there egging them on—had decided to turn their attention on Severus Snape instead and ended up provoking the boy into ending his friendship with Lily. And Lily had blamed them_ all _—Remus included for not standing up to his friends when he should have known better._

* * *

Lily's green eyes had a way of making a man feel either ten feet tall or like the most useless person in the world. She could instil guilt in a person as though Professor McGonagall had been giving her private lessons. Staring at those same green eyes in the face of a boy—Lily's son—was a reminder that Remus would never be able to properly apologise to her for his part in what happened to Snape.

The rest of the boy was a mirror image of James, which made Remus initially excited until reality set in and the grief was instantly returned to him. _Harry_. This was _Harry_ Potter.

Harry Potter who had not noticed the light from the fireplace or Remus and Sirius stepping out of the flames as he bore down upon the headmaster in genuine anger. "They _killed_ Kingsley. Remus could have . . . Ron and Ginny and Neville . . . Luna was hurt too, and Hermione almost _died_!"

"Harry . . ." Sirius whispered, and the boy turned. All the anger faded from his face as he ran into his godfather's arms, clinging to him with a mighty grip.

"I tried . . . I thought . . . Sirius, I thought they had you, and I couldn't let them . . ."

"It's all right, son," Sirius said, kissing the top of Harry's head. "I know what happened, and even though it was reckless and stupid what you did," he said in a bit of a scolding tone, "I wouldn't have expected you to act any differently. You'd never let someone you love get hurt without doing something about it. In the future, I'd prefer it if you tried to hold off on breaking down doors and risking your own life."

"Fudge is—" Harry began to say, but Sirius cut him off quickly.

"I know. Tonks told me. Let's not worry about that now. I want to make sure everyone's all right," he said firmly and glanced up at Dumbledore with a look that seemed to be a mixture of anger and reluctant gratitude. Whatever Dumbledore had done to anger Harry, somehow the older wizard had managed to bring the boy back to Hogwarts alive, and that was not something easily forgotten.

"I've just told him . . ." Dumbledore began with a heavy sigh. "He knows about the prophecy."

Sirius growled. He had wanted to tell Harry the truth from the beginning, but the rest of the Order fought against him at every turn. Now, only after an absolute disaster had happened, was Dumbledore willing to agree with him. Sirius ignored the older wizard and took Harry's face in his hands. "You are not a weapon, do you hear me?"

"But it says I have to—"

"Molly says I have to stop cursing so much," Sirius said with a scoff. "Doesn't mean I'm fucking going to. I don't give a shit what some barmy may-or-may-not-be-Seer said years and years ago. You are a kid, my kid, and I'll be damned if anyone," he said looking over Harry's shoulder at Dumbledore who had the grace to look guilty, "thinks they're going to turn you into some bloody weapon to fight that bastard."

Harry sniffled and nodded his head. "I'm . . . I want to fight him. I have to fight him."

"You have to go to school and let the Order take care of things," Sirius corrected. "If what Tonks said is true and Fudge is on his way to finding out the truth about Peter, I'll be free soon, and I intend on keeping my promise," he said firmly. "What's my promise, Harry?"

Harry swallowed hard. "Proper family."

Sirius grinned, clapping the boy on the shoulder. "That's right. So you focus on being a kid and leave the rest to me, yeah?"

The boy hesitated. "He got in my head and . . ."

Sirius frowned. "Harry. You need to learn Occlumency. That's a point that I actually agreed with. Maybe this time, we'll get you a _proper_ instructor," he said and glared at Dumbledore fiercely.

The headmaster merely nodded his head and stood to leave. "If the three of you will excuse me, there is a great deal of things that need to be dealt with in the wake of tonight's events. I assume you'll be headed to the hospital wing soon. I'll let Poppy know you're on your way," he said and then, with his eyes twinkling, left the office.

At the mention of "three" Harry curiously turned and looked over Sirius's shoulder, his attention falling on Remus for the first time. Shocked by the fact that a stranger had been there the whole time while he'd had a proper breakdown, Harry flushed with embarrassment and wiped at the tear tracks on his face. "Sirius? Who's he?"

"Umm . . ." Remus muttered, not entirely certain who was and was not allowed to know the truth.

"Remus's kid," Sirius replied. "At least, that's what you need to know for right now, okay?" he said, looking down at Harry who appeared incredibly shocked to hear that his former professor had a son. "We'll explain everything when we can. For now," he said and put a hand on the back of Harry's neck, pulling the boy in close, "know you can trust him. _I_ can't trust him," Sirius added turning back to glare a bit at the young werewolf. "But I imagine that's because he's just a dumb kid who thinks he knows better than me."

Remus rolled his eyes and Sirius chuckled. The night had been shit, but seeing Harry alive and well had calmed Sirius immensely. "Let's go look in on everyone, yeah?"

Harry nodded and hugged his godfather once more before reluctantly releasing him and turning his attention toward Remus. "Why doesn't he trust you?" he asked suspiciously.

Remus cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I found out what was happening tonight. I overheard the end of your conversation with Kreacher. Couldn't get to the fireplace in time to stop you from dashing off," he said with a frown. "And . . . and I told Lu—" He paused and then cleared his throat again. "I told my dad and suggested that Sirius be left out of the loop. He's been angry and jumpy the past few days, and I was worried he'd go off and get himself arrested or worse."

Harry nodded in understanding, looking up as he exited Dumbledore's office side-by-side with Remus, staring at Sirius who walked ahead of them, likely eavesdropping on their conversation. Harry smiled, looking relieved.

"Thank you," he muttered. "I know he wants to help, but it was stupid of me to go running off. People got hurt. People died. If Sirius had . . ." He stopped talking and stared down at the floor, a scowl back on his face as he contemplated the ramifications of his own reckless behaviour.

The pair walked in silence toward the infirmary, following in Sirius's wake. As they approached the doors, Harry stopped and turned to face Remus and he offered him a kind smile and an extended hand.

"Harry Potter."

Remus smiled, remembering the last time he shook James's hand. They had been watching Peter and Sirius wrestle in the common room over a liquorice wand. James bet Remus five Knuts that Sirius would end it with a headlock, whereas Remus insisted that Peter would shift into Animagus form and run away. They had shaken on it, and Remus used the five Knuts he won off the bet to buy them each a butterbeer that following weekend in Hogsmeade.

He stared at Harry's extended hand, frowning at the glimmering sight of scars that looked like words on the back of it. Ignoring them for now, Remus reached out and took the hand in friendship, smiling up into the face of James Potter with Lily Evans's eyes.

"Remus Lupin."


	5. Chapter 5

**June 1996**

The hospital wing appeared to be a lot calmer than Remus had imagined considering what they had been told had happened. Madam Pomfrey moved from bed to bed doing what she could, while Professors Sprout and Flitwick assisted her. Remus stayed close to Sirius, even as Harry left their side to approach a bed at the end of the room that had curtains drawn around it, unlike the others that remained open.

Sirius spotted Tonks and went straight to her side by a bed where Lupin was. He looked more annoyed than injured, as Professor Sprout adjusted a bandage that was wrapped around his head.

"Honestly, Pomona, it will likely be healed by morning; there's no need to fuss."

"No need to fuss, he says," Tonks muttered, shaking her head in exasperation. "If you knew how many people thought you'd gone and died when you fell over . . . You ought to placate the people who think highly enough of you to give a damn to fix your bandages, you know," she said in a scolding tone that did not match the happy pink of her hair.

Lupin sighed, looking up at her. "I said I was sorry."

Sirius glared as though the apology was meant for him. "Unforgiven. You walked into a fight without me, purposely left me out, and got yourself injured. I ought to throttle you in your sleep, you bloody idiot."

"You know why I did it," Lupin said with a frown.

Sirius huffed but nodded, leaning down to wrap his arms around his best friend. "I'm glad you're alive," he whispered so quietly that only both werewolves could hear, and young Remus shifted awkwardly on his feet as he watched the scene in front of him.

When Lupin made eye contact with him, he sighed. "You all right?"

Remus nodded. "I met Harry."

"He'll be a good friend to you."

Remus nodded again. "It's weird, seeing you in bed like that."

Lupin frowned, understanding immediately that it was likely the younger version of himself was already having trouble adjusting to the fact that he was able to see himself twenty years in the future. To hear that he had almost died in battle must have been frightening.

"Come here." Lupin motioned for him to approach. When Remus reluctantly did, he was pulled in close, his forehead pressed against the older werewolf's. He let out a breath of relief. "It's All right," Lupin whispered. "I feel it too. The wolves are agitated and have been having a hard time trying to adjust to one another considering they're essentially the same creature. And to think that the other . . . if I _had_ died . . . I understand. _I'm_ fine. _You're_ fine."

Remus wiped the back of his hand against his eyes as he pulled away. "It's . . . nice," he said quietly. "Having another . . . like me around. I'd never actually met another wolf before. Not since . . ." he began to say but stopped, both of them wincing at the memory of Greyback's original attack. "I don't feel so alone."

"You're not alone," Sirius said, clapping Remus on the shoulder. "You've always had me, and now you've got a whole extended family. Harry and his friends; they'll be good for you."

"They're not you and Prongs," Remus whispered.

"No," Lupin said in agreement. "And I know you think that you were lucky enough to have had the few friends you did. That _we_ did. But you deserve more. It's all right to want more."

Tonks snorted, rolling her eyes. Lupin turned and narrowed his. "I'm talking about _him_ , not me."

"Don't care," she said, shrugging her shoulders. " _You_ deserve more too. You almost died tonight."

Lupin scoffed. "I was stunned."

"I don't care. I'm not going through that again. I love you, you big idiot, and I'm not letting you go into a fight again without knowing it. Without being mine."

He shook his head firmly. "You don't know what you're saying, Dora. I'm too old, I'm too—Mmph!" His attempts at any protest were silenced when she kissed him hard, actually moving to straddle his waist in the process.

Remus's eyes widened at the sight, and he turned his gaze away immediately, blushing a touch even as Sirius chuckled and flicked his wand, closing the curtains around the hospital bed and setting up a simple Locking and Silencing Charm, muttering a gentle "Finally" under his breath. When Sirius looked down at the flushed Remus, he laughed. "What? You thought girls only fancied you in _school_?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Can we not talk about that?"

Sirius barked a laugh. "Let's give the lovebirds some privacy. Poppy," he called out to the flustered mediwitch. "Do you need any more help? I doubt Harry plans on leaving his friends behind, and I won't be leaving him, so fix up some extra beds."

The matron turned and glared at him, a firm hand on her hips. "Does this look like an inn, Sirius Black? I ought to— Her eyes widened at the sight of the young werewolf. "Remus? But I . . ." she muttered, gesturing to the bed where she'd just finished bandaging Lupin. "I . . . And they . . ."

Sirius winced. "Oh, right. This is Remus's kid."

Madam Pomfrey stormed over toward Sirius and flicked his ear. "Don't you dare lie to me, young man. I know this face," she said, taking Remus's chin in her hand and examining him curiously. "I've been treating him for over twenty years. He's got a scar just below his left ear." Turning his head, she pointed to the familiar mark. "What's happening?" She stood up straight, glaring at Sirius as though he had done something wrong. "I swear, if Albus has been giving out Time-Turners again, I'll hex him silly! That man should remember what happened when Miss Granger nearly exhausted herself. I still can believe he and Minerva thought it would be appropriate to let her handle one."

Sirius placed his hands on her shoulders, attempting to calm her, or at the very least prevent her from hexing the headmaster. "It's not a Time-Turner, and it's hard to explain, Poppy. But he's, well, he's Remus's _son,_ " he said, exaggerating the word to drive the point home, "and that's what everyone _needs_ to know. He'll be coming to Hogwarts next year. That is, if the rumours about Umbridge leaving are true."

Poppy sighed in frustration and then offered young Remus a tender smile, reaching out to touch his face with motherly affection as she had always done when he was a little boy. "I doubt she'll want to stick around even if she's allowed," she said, returning her attention to Sirius. "The . . . _poor dear_ ," she said through clenched teeth, "was quite traumatised."

Shaking her head in disapproval at the way Sirius grinned darkly at the news, Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Very well, if you're going to loiter around my infirmary, the least you can do is help out. Mr Black, if you'll be so kind as to change Mr Weasley's bandages. He was burned by . . . I can't even tell what they are, but the marks they left up his arms wouldn't accept Dittany, so Essence of Murtlap had to do." She shoved a small container in Sirius's hands and shooed him off down the aisle. "Mr Lupin, if you'd be so kind as to take these Pain Relief Potions and deliver one to each patient in the wing."

Remus swallowed as the phials were placed in his hands. Tucking the potions into the pockets of his robes, he nervously moved down the aisle. He approached the first bed on the left where a boy his age sat, rubbing at a nose that still had dried blood stuck in the nostrils, likely from having been recently broken. Remus cleared his throat, and the boy looked up, squinting his eyes to focus on the intruder.

"Who are you?"

Remus stepped closer. "My name is Remus."

The boy raised a curious brow. "Remus? Like Professor—"

"Yeah," Remus said quickly. "That's umm . . . my dad."

Looking amused by the announcement, the boy smiled, instantly reaching his hand out. "I'm Neville Longbottom."

Remus was struck silent by the shock of how easily people smiled at him with the announcement of his "relation" to the older Lupin. He had been under the impression that werewolves were still despised and often outcast from society, and yet here, amongst Order members and Hogwarts students, Remus Lupin—at least the elder—was like a password to some secret club filled with friendly people. Except for Moody.

He smiled and took Neville's hand, trying not to associate the boy's last name with his Housemate from his own time. _Frank_. Frank had always been a decent bloke. "Here," Remus said, handing one of the phials to Neville. "Madam Pomfrey said you'd need a Pain Relief Potion."

Neville shrugged but took the potion anyway. "Doesn't hurt much anymore. More upset about my wand. It was broken in the fight."

Remus winced. "How bad?"

"Completely snapped," Neville groaned. "My Gran is going to kill me. It was my dad's wand."

Remus frowned and swallowed down. " _Was_?"

Neville nodded sadly. "Yeah," he said but did not elaborate.

Remus did not want him to. He had heard enough stories about his friends dying. "Umm, well, I'm sure you can get another one. Ollivander always says that the wand chooses the wizard. Maybe when you get your own it'll . . . I don't know. Fit better?"

Neville smiled at that. "That'd be nice."

"Feel better Neville," Remus said, patting him on the shoulder.

"Good to meet you, Remus."

Remus walked down past Neville's bed, watching as Sirius left another, a red-headed boy following behind him. He was scratching at his arms as they walked to the very end of the infirmary, slipping behind closed curtains around another bed. Curious but wary, Remus ducked toward another bed to see a tiny ginger witch trying to hobble on one foot.

"Ow, motherfucker . . . piece of shit ankle . . ."

He cleared his throat and pulled out a phial from his pocket. "Umm . . . Pain Relief Potion?"

She instantly had her wand trained on him, and his eyes widened at the threat. He raised a brow when she tripped, catching herself on the edge of the bed. "Who the hell are you?"

Remus sighed irritably. "We should have made an announcement," he muttered. "I'm Remus. Yes, Lupin's kid. Yes, same name."

She narrowed her eyes. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

He scoffed. "That's a bit paranoid."

"Been a bit of a rough year."

He grumbled in frustration, anxiously running a hand through his hair, not in the mood to deal with wands trained on him like he was some sort of villain and questions that he was not sure he was even allowed to answer. "I don't know what to say to that."

She lowered her wand. "Never mind," she said, returning to the bed, gently nursing her foot as she hobbled back on. "You look just like him when he's nervous."

Remus raised a brow. "You know enough about him to know what he looks like when he's nervous?"

"He was my teacher for a whole year. One of very few good ones. You remember the _good_ ones," she said with a soft smile. "Pay attention to them too."

"You didn't know him well enough to know that he had a son," he pointed out.

She shrugged. "Everyone's allowed their secrets, I guess. Why don't you go to Hogwarts?"

"I will next year. My mum taught me at home," he lied, watching as the girl seemed to question him for a moment before she snorted in reply.

"She didn't let you go to Hogwarts? What's _that_ about?"

"We lived in . . . it was . . . she died," he finally said with a shrug, figuring that no one would ask questions about _that_ considering it was just an invitation for an awkward conversation. It was not a _complete_ lie either. In this world, this new life, Remus Lupin—the elder—and a witch named Emilie Delacour were his parents. She had died and that was why he was here now. Remus wondered if he said it to himself often enough he might just start thinking it was true.

The girl frowned at the declaration of a dead mother. "Oh. Sorry. I'm Ginny; you can call me a bitch if you'd like."

Remus smirked, holding out the phial to her. "Think I'll pass. Here's a potion to help with the pain."

"I'd prefer firewhisky."

He laughed. "You drink firewhisky? What are you, like, twelve?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, smirking. "Be careful there Little Lupin," she said, training her wand on him again, twirling it between her fingers with ease. "I spent my night hexing Death Eaters, and I'm not in the mood for lip."

Remus smiled at her, raising his hands in surrender. "My mistake. I'll bring by some firewhisky if I stumble across some, yeah? In the meantime, how about you take the potion. That ankle looks like it needs a few more hours before it's completely healed."

She reluctantly pulled both of her legs up, and he helped to throw the sheet over her, leaving room for her swollen ankle to breathe. "You know healing or something?" she asked curiously as she watched the way he precisely tucked the blanket around her foot.

Remus nodded sadly, scratching at his chest and feeling the mapping of scars there beneath his robes. "A few," he said quietly before closing the curtains as he left.

The blond girl in the bed next to Ginny's made him want to rush back to the threatening redhead almost immediately. She looked up, smiled sweetly and said, "Oh, hello, Professor."

Remus cleared his throat. "Excuse me?"

"Should I call you Remus? I suppose you don't like being thought of as one-half of a whole. A replica really but not. You're _you_ aren't you? I'm Luna."

He stared at her, eyes wide as she smiled at him, acting as though what she just said had not floored him and sent him into a mild panic. "You . . . how do you . . .?"

"Don't mind me. No one listens to what I have to say. Except Harry. He's nice," she said, blinking her big doe eyes up at him. "You have a very pretty aura. Much different from Professor Lupin. The older one I mean. Then again, you're not a professor. Your aura is lighter, by the way. Fresher. You haven't been hurt as much. Hurt, yes, but that'll all be made well again soon."

Remus slowly stepped closer to her, holding out the phial of Pain Relief Potion. "Are you . . . Are you a Seer?"

"I see things others aren't looking for." It did not answer his question and Remus wondered if she knew that and was being vague on purpose. He didn't think so. "I think we'll be good friends," she said after drinking the potion. She curled up on her side and closed her eyes, not waiting to watch him leave.

Remus left Luna's side quickly, practically dashing to the end of the infirmary, picking up bits and pieces of conversations along the way. It was not what he was hearing that caused him to stop in his steps, but the smell: rose oil and oranges. His lids grew heavy, and he felt a soft comfort sit in his chest as he slowly moved forward, breathing the scent in deeply. Had it been closer to the full moon, he was certain he would have smelled it before he had ever stepped foot into the hospital wing. It was the same smell on his pillow at Grimmauld Place. Slipping into the curtained area as quietly as possible, Remus frowned at the sight of Harry hovering over the bed, eyes wet. Sirius's hand was on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. The red-headed boy he had seen walking with Sirius earlier was on the other side of the bed, holding a small hand within his own.

"Sirius, if she . . . If she doesn't wake up—"

"She'll wake up, son. Madam Pomfrey says she just needs to rest. Lots of potions and sleep and when she does wake up, she'll need a lot of care and attention. No stressing her out."

The redhead chuckled softly, wiping his own wet eyes on the shoulder of his robes. His hands, other than the bare skin holding onto the small palm, were covered in bandages. "She stresses herself out enough. Bloody hell. If only we'd stayed together. They separated us all, and I rushed after Ginny and Luna."

Sirius shook his head. "Can't blame yourself, Ron. The lot of you were reckless going into the Ministry. Harry, did you even open that gift I gave you? It's a two-way mirror. I've got one, and you've got the other. You could have used it to contact me personally instead of sneaking around with your head in the Floo and taking Kreacher's word for the truth." His tone was one of disapproval, but nothing like Remus had heard from Walburga Black who cursed and screamed and yelled as she saw fit. No, this was a tone Sirius had learned at the feet of Charlus and Dorea Potter. Parents who were angry because they cared and worried. He watched as his best friend pulled Harry into a tight hug. "No more running off, all right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"She'll be fine. Tough girl, our Hermione."

_Hermione_.

Remus tilted his head to the side, his focus finally falling on the unconscious witch in the bed. Bushy brown curls framed a face that was too pale, especially in this light. Her skin looked sallow and unhealthy, but there was a softness that drew him in. She was not the prettiest witch he had seen in his life, but Remus prided himself on not caring for such things. He himself was scarred, battle worn by his own curse, and he was shocked when girls gave him a passing glance. He observed, watching Sirius and learning what _not_ to do, that witches could often be as shallow as wizards; so he searched for the inner beauty in everyone he met. It helped that his wolf was a good judge of character.

The girl, for instance.

His wolf _liked_ the girl.

_Hermione_.

"Ahem. He cleared his throat, drawing attention to himself. When three pairs of eyes turned and looked at him, Remus felt bad for intruding. "Umm . . . Madam Pomfrey said everyone needs one of these," he said, holding up a phial of the Pain Relief Potion, glancing at the redhead first and the bandages on his arms. Unable to stop himself from looking at the girl in the bed, Remus wondered, "Is . . . she all right?"

"Who's asking?" the redhead asked defensively, moving to stand between Remus and the bed, obstructing his view of the girl.

_Hermione_.

"Ease up, mate," Sirius said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "He's family. Ron, this is Remus."

Ron raised a brow. "Remus?" he asked, looking much less hostile. "You Lupin's kid or something?"

Remus nodded. "Or something. What happened to you?" he asked, gesturing to the bandages.

"Brains," Ron answered, leaving Remus just as confused as ever. He took the out held Pain Relief Potion, swallowing it down quickly. "I'm going to go check on Gin. Let me know if she wakes up, Harry."

Sirius reached for a phial as well and then sighed. "I'll take this. See if I can get Moony to drink it. He and Tonks have had enough alone time. It is still a school," he said with a smirk, leaving Harry and Remus alone together.

Harry sat down at the witch's side, taking her hand in his own and squeezing it gently. Remus frowned at the sight. Harry looked so much like James, but this softer side, this broken boy in front of him had not lived the life of privilege that James Potter had. Harry looked frail and unhealthy himself but also stubborn, as though he just refused to let himself crash and burn. Remus felt a strange sense of understanding sympathy for him.

"And . . ."— _Hermione—_ "and her?" Remus asked, not entirely certain what his question actually was. Still, he sat down in a chair beside Harry and looked on as the girl, _Hermione_ , took in slow, shallow breaths.

"I saw her go down, and I thought . . ." Harry struggled to say, fought to not cry, breathing in deep to keep calm.

"Is she . . . your witch?" Remus asked curiously, noting the tender way with which Harry held her hand.

He looked up, his eyes nearly crossed in the confusion of the question, as though he was not certain he had heard it correctly. "My . . . what?" Harry gaped at Remus and looked like he would have laughed had the girl not been unconscious in the bed beside them. "No. She's just . . . my friend. My best friend. She tried to get me to stay here. When I thought . . . I thought Sirius had been taken, that he was being tortured. She tried to get me to see reason. She always does," he said with a sad little smile. "But she's loyal. Followed me into the Ministry and was right at my side the whole time until that Death Eater . . ."

Remus put a hand on Harry's shoulder, smiling a little at the way he rambled, despite the fact that it was obviously based on some seriously deep guilt. Harry reminded him of Lily and the way she could talk and talk and never stop until someone literally had to physically jolt her, reminding her that she had an audience. Harry blinked those same green eyes, and Remus forced himself to come back to the present.

"She'll be asleep for a while. As long as she doesn't spike a fever, I'd guess she'll wake in a day or so." He glanced over to the bedside table where a vast array of phials sat in various shades of colours, viscosity, and amounts. "Judging by these potions, she'll need to keep taking them for several weeks and shouldn't get out of bed for a while."

"You good at potions?"

"Not even remotely." In Slughorn's class, he could easily brew a Draught of Peace to rival any of his friends—except Lily—for three weeks out of the month, but when the full moon began to make its presence known and Moony took over at least seventy-five percent of Remus's mind and senses, he could not brew a thing because being in the classroom gave him a headache. Instead of smelling powdered moonstone or salamander blood, all he could smell was that awful cologne that some arsehole had given Slughorn for Christmas. The stench of it was blinding.

"I'm not the best either," Harry said with a smile. It genuinely shocked Remus, as Lily was thought of as an actual potions prodigy. James, while not up to Lily's standard, was not half bad himself. "How do you know so much about potions then?"

"I've taken a few in my time," Remus muttered. "I know a bit about how they interact with one another and the body."

"You going to be a Healer?"

"No," Remus said. He was not allowed to because of his condition. He had been shocked, really, that Madam Pomfrey trusted him to deliver potions to her patients, but then again, the mediwitch had always had a soft spot for him. "No idea what I'm going to do with my life." He had not had many prospects in his own time. Being a werewolf would prevent him from gaining any humane employment with a decent wage, and he imagined that things had not changed that much in twenty years.

Harry nodded, likely thinking that he understood but really . . . how could he? "Ron and I were thinking about being Aurors. Hunting down Dark wizards. After tonight, I can't tell if I'm excited about that idea or feeling a bit inadequate."

Remus looked back at him, turning his attention away from the girl. "You ever fight Death Eaters before?"

Harry's posture stiffened. "Something like that."

"And you lived," Remus pointed out. "Don't take that lightly, Harry. I had . . . I had friends growing up who wanted to be Aurors." He remembered the day when James and Sirius announced their future careers to the rest of Gryffindor House, and how James had sauntered over to Lily, asking her if a man in uniform turned her on, only to walk back when she had hexed his hair bright orange. "It's a dangerous but noble career. Fighting for others. Saving the world. It's a choice not many would make."

Harry frowned. "It never feels like much of a choice."


	6. Chapter 6

**June 1996**

Madam Pomfrey gave Remus a set of bed sheets and a pillow and gestured toward an empty bed near the front of the infirmary, as far away from the witch's— _Hermione's_ —bed as possible. The mediwitch had not done it on purpose. There was only one free bed available when all was said and done; even Sirius had transformed into Padfoot and slept at the foot of Harry's bed.

Soft sounds of snoring filled the hospital wing, and even if being stressed and displaced in time and worried about the future did not keep Remus awake, the snoring would have. He wished he was back at Grimmauld Place, in his own room, his own bed. He scoffed quietly—endeavouring not to wake the other occupants—at that strange thought because it was his _first_ thought. Not _I wish I was home in my own time, in my four-poster up in Gryffindor Tower between Sirius and James_. Not _I wish I was home in Yorkshire with Mum and Dad_. Not even _I wish I was at Potter Manor, sleeping in a pile on the drawing room floor with my friends_ , _beneath a blanket fort_ —because no matter how old they got, Sirius insisted they were never too old for a blanket fort.

No. He had thought first of Grimmauld Place. Of a dark room on a simple twin bed with a pillow that smelled like oranges and rose oil.

He cast a quiet Tempus to check the time, and, seeing that it was not yet half three in the morning, Remus groaned and rolled over, attempting to fall asleep. Giving up almost instantly and thinking that he did not exactly have much left to lose, he stood from the bed, flicked his wand to shut the curtains behind him so no one would get suspicious, and made his way silently down the long aisle to the end of the infirmary, letting the calming smell direct his footsteps.

The chair beside Hermione's bed was awkward and uncomfortable, barely a bit of wood that not even a proper Cushioning Charm could make agreeable. It was certainly not the bed he had abandoned. And still, breathing in deep and letting the sound of her soft breathing match up with the beat of his heart, Remus fell asleep almost instantly.

* * *

When Hermione opened her eyes she could not see anything but the light bursting through the nearby window, and even that was almost blinding. Unaware of her location, she tried to listen, only able to hear the faint muffled sounds of people speaking a distance away. Worried when she did not feel her wand in hand, she sat up quickly only to feel a sharp pain shoot through her ribs and chest. "Ow . . . ow, ow, ow," she mumbled, jolting a bit when someone took her hand. "Harry?"

"Are you all right? In any pain? Should I get Madam Pomfrey?"

The voice was a bit muffled like the others, and she could not quite make it out. Trying to squint through the brightness of the room, she could only linger on the soft green colour of the eyes above her and the way that hair hung in the face of whoever was holding her hand. Trying to breathe through the pain, Hermione inhaled through her nose as she leant back against the pillows and almost smiled at the scent of pine, strong black tea, and vanilla. "Professor Lupin," she said, relaxing as the feeling of safety washed over her.

The hand holding hers quickly released. There was a beat of tension before the voice once again broke the silence. "Please call me Remus."

Hermione winced slightly, remembering that Professor Lupin told them all recently that they were allowed to call him by his given name, something that she still struggled with, forever viewing him as an authority figure. "Sorry, Remus," she said the name, trying not to make a face when she did. "My head is a bit fuzzy, and it's hard to focus. What happened? Where's Harry?" She sat up again, panicked as memories returned all too quickly. A battle, Death Eaters, and Harry was right there when . . . Was she hit?

With a hand gripped to her ribs, still unable to see properly, Hermione tried swinging her legs over the side of the bed as though she was ready to jump back into the fight. Hissing at the pain, she frowned when she was gently lifted back into the bed.

"Sit back or you'll hurt yourself. You were injured in battle. Harry's fine. So are all of your friends. Some were injured but no one was . . . umm . . . A member of the Order was . . . killed." Hermione gasped. "I don't really think I'm supposed to even be saying anything about it."

She bit her lip and thought immediately of Sirius, the whole reason they had gone to the Ministry of Magic; then again, Professor Lupin would not be so casual about the death of his best friend. That left anyone from the Weasleys to Mad Eye to Dumbledore himself.

"Who?" she asked, terrified of the answer.

"Kingsley."

She frowned, remembering the face of the smiling Auror. "That's awful." After a moment, she cleared her throat of the lingering emotions. "Is Sirius all right? We were tricked, and—"

"He's fine," he said, placing his hand back on hers. "Everyone else is fine, I promise you."

She swallowed. "And the Death Eaters?"

"Arrested. Most of them."

"Thank goodness." She leant back again, smiling as his scent washed over her. It was familiar but had never been so strong before. Then again, he was rarely this close to her. Curiously, she rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, surprised that his hands were as soft as they were as they had never looked that way before, and she had gotten a good look during third year when she obsessively watched him mark papers, constantly terrified that she would get something wrong.

The lingering pain in her side pulled her from her thoughts; the exhaustion, however, was worse. "What happened to me?"

He hesitated before speaking, releasing her hand once again. "I'm not sure. I really should go get Madam Pomfrey."

"Thank you, Professor," she said, unable to keep her eyes open any longer.

"Remus," he corrected.

Hermione nodded. "Remus."

* * *

"Hermione?"

Slowly, she began to open her eyes again. Instead of a bright light, the room was dark, and she sighed in relief. The pain in her side was minimal, but still there, and her hearing had completely returned, bringing with it a heavy dose of relief. Hermione did not enjoy having her senses not at their peak. She smiled at the sound of Harry's voice, reaching for him, needing to feel him to know for certain that he was safe.

"It's okay, Hermione," he said, taking her hand.

She wanted to cry. Opening her eyes completely, she was relieved that her vision was no longer blurry. "Oh, Harry, are you all right? Is Ron—"

"Right here, Mione," Ron said from the other side of the bed, reaching out for her free hand. "Everyone's fine. Are you in pain?"

She nodded. "Just a little. It's not as bad as the last time I woke up." She released them both so that she could use her hands to push herself up into a sitting position. "Is Professor Lupin all right? He sounded a bit . . . different."

Harry raised a confused brow. "Lupin? Lupin was sent home this morning, and Remus said you didn't wake up until around noon."

Hermione stared at him. "Harry, you're not making sense."

Ron opened the curtains around her bed just a touch and shouted, "Oi, Remus!"

Hermione's face briefly turned red out of shock and embarrassment for her friend. "Ron, don't be disrespectful," she hissed reproachfully. "Just because he says we can call him by his first name doesn't mean you should go about shouting at him like he's our—" She stopped when a boy stepped through the curtains. He had soft green eyes that she could easily see even in the dim light and sandy hair that hung a bit in his face. He was tall, about the same height as Ron only leaner, like Harry. His robes were a bit worn, and she could see a few scars peeking out of the top of the collar.

"Our age," she whispered.

Harry smiled. "Hermione, this is Remus."

She turned and scowled at Harry. "Obviously. I was hit in the chest, Harry, not the head. What happened? Did someone . . . Was it in the Time Room? There were Time-Turners all over. This is terrible! Does Professor Dumbledore know?"

Ron stared at her in confusion. "What are you talking about 'Mione?"

"What do you mean, what am I talking about?" She brought her hand up to touch her forehead, probing through her hair to feel every inch of her skull, searching for bumps. "Did I . . . _Did_ I hit my head?"

"Hermione," Harry said, taking her hand again as though she were having a nervous breakdown. "This is Remus. He's Lupin's son."

She almost laughed, bringing her gaze back to the boy standing at the foot of her bed, staring at her. "Don't be ridiculous, Harry. Obviously, he's . . ." Her eyes narrowed as a thought occurred to her. "Where's Professor Dumbledore?"

"In his office. Why?" Ron answered.

"Where's Sirius?"

Harry frowned. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

"I want to know why we've been lied to."

Harry and Ron both looked confused, but the boy—this Remus Lupin—looked shocked. "How do you know?"

Ron turned and gaped at him. "Know what?"

Hermione ignored her friend, keeping her attention on this younger version of her professor. "You were the one who I spoke with," she said, remembering waking up and talking with him, asking what had happened and who had been killed. "How?"

He shrugged, moving closer to her with a look in his eyes as though he were being relieved of a great burden. "They don't know. Some . . . object that they don't know anything about."

"Not a Time-Turner?"

He shook his head. "No."

Well, that only left about a thousand different possibilities. "And Professor Lupin?"

"Safe," he assured her. "Perfectly normal, or so I've been told."

"Does one of you want to tell me what the bloody hell is going on?" Harry snapped.

Just then, the curtains pulled back, and Sirius stepped forward, smiling brightly down at Hermione. "Look who's awake," he said, stepping beside Remus, and leaning his arm on the boy's shoulder. "How're you feeling? Hermione?" he asked, catching sight of her angry scowl.

"She knows," Remus whispered.

Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, we _were_ kind of waiting for her to wake up before we said anything." He turned around to close the curtains once again, flicking his wand out and casting a Silencing Charm around the area.

"How does she know?" Remus asked.

"Your eyes," Hermione answered. "And . . . there's a scar, just there, peeking out of your collar." She gestured to the small bit of silvery-pink skin, feeling bad when he instantly cupped the mark with his hand to hide it. "And you smell like—"

Ron turned, staring wide-eyed at her. "Bloody hell, Hermione. You meet a bloke, and five minutes later start telling him that he stinks?"

She sighed in frustration. "Shut it. Sirius?" She looked at Harry's godfather and folded her arms across her chest, ignoring the lingering pain there as the truth was much more important to her at the moment.

"Right. Harry, Ron, Hermione, this is Remus Lupin." Sirius gestured to the boy who kept his still-wide eyes on Hermione.

Harry nodded, not understanding. "Yeah. We've met."

"No," Sirius said. "I mean this is Remus Lupin. The formerly one and only."

Ron stared at the boy. "I don't get it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He isn't Professor Lupin's _son_ , he _is_ Professor Lupin. A younger version of him," she explained, wondering how long she had been unconscious and how no one else had figured this out. Surely, she was not the only one who had paid enough attention to people to notice similarities and differences. Then again, she had known what the man _smelled_ like. How embarrassing. If Ron had not interrupted her, she'd have likely gone on, waxing poetic about how her former professor smelled like her favourite brand of tea and fresh vanilla bean that her mother used when baking cookies. Harry and Ron would have laughed for hours and teased her relentlessly, thinking that it was another ridiculous crush like Professor Lockhart. And it wasn't. It wasn't. _It wasn't_! She admired Professor Lupin, that was all. Though, this younger version of him . . . He was very . . .

"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted as he finally got a good enough look at Remus, noticing the obvious similarities, cutting off Hermione's thoughts in the process. "How is that possible?"

Hermione turned her attention to Sirius. "Is this because of what happened in the Department of Mysteries?"

He shook his head. "No." When Harry's eyes widened in horror, the same look he got on his face when he decided that something was his fault, Sirius stepped forward and caught his godson by the shoulders, shaking him just a touch. "No. Harry, you kids had nothing to do with it."

Hermione pursed her lips. "What did _you_ do?" she asked Sirius.

He turned and smirked at her. "What makes you think . . ." he began, sighing when she raised an incredulous brow at him. "All right fine, I touched a thing I probably wasn't supposed to touch," he said indignantly. "Dumbledore thinks it belonged to a bloke who worked in the Department of Mysteries a long time ago. Some sort of—"

She gasped. "Magical wormhole."

Harry blinked. "A _what_ hole?"

" _Worm_ hole. Is anything different for you?" she asked, turning her attention back to Remus who nervously swallowed.

"No, he's the same," Sirius said.

"Yes," Remus answered, correcting Sirius. "Umm . . . James, er, Harry's father didn't wear glasses."

Harry's brows furrowed. Automatically he adjusted his own spectacles. "Yeah, he did. Everyone always told me he did."

Remus shook his head. "Never seen it. And Sirius is left-handed."

"But _here_ he's right," Hermione said, eyes widening in amazement. "Oh, wow. He's not from the _past_. He's from a different world altogether." When every wizard around her bed looked confused except for Remus, she sighed. "It's Muggle science. Parallel universe, multiverse, string theory. There are many different ideas and probabilities that haven't been proven yet, as far as I've researched."

Harry gaped down at her. "Why're you researching Muggle science?"

Ron snorted. "Light reading?"

"Shut up," she grumbled. "Anyway, some Muggle scientists believe that this isn't the only universe. That there are an infinite number of worlds slightly identical to ours, differing in varying ways. One theory suggests that at any point in any time when someone is given multiple choices, a new universe is created based on the choice that is made, wherein other universes exist where the opposite choice was taken. For instance, a world where perhaps James Potter's parents found a charm to correct his vision before he went to Hogwarts. Or a world where Sirius is left-handed instead of right."

Ron frowned. "What does this have to do with worms?"

"Worm _hole_. It's a hypothetical shortcut through space and time," she explained quickly, returning her focus to Remus. "How did it work?"

"Blood Magic," he answered, lifting his palm to show her the very small scar that was left behind in the centre of his hand. "I cut myself on one object and was drawn to another here in your . . . Wow. I've been saying your _time_ for weeks now, but it's really your _world_."

Hermione almost smiled. "This is unbelievable. Are you all right?"

Remus blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Little . . . shocked," he admitted. "And they told me about . . . everything that's happened." Hermione pressed her lips tightly together, taking a brief glance at Harry to see that he understood what that meant. "But I mean, I guess that means there are a lot of worlds out there where James and Lily didn't . . ." Remus stopped, unable to say the words.

"You knew my parents," Harry said with a smile.

"Yeah. James was my best friend."

"Ahem."

Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius. "James was _one_ of my best friends."

Harry looked incredibly excited. Despite the answers to many of their questions still being just a theory, Sirius and Remus both looked a bit relieved. Ron, however, still seemed confused. "Well . . . I mean, not really," he said. "If you're from a different world then, technically, he's not friends with _your_ parents, Harry. Not the real ones."

Remus frowned, offended. "They were real to me."

Ron grimaced, instantly realising his mistake. "Sorry, mate, er . . . Professor?"

"Remus."

Hermione chewed her bottom lip. "That does pose an interesting theory, though. Are you still a werewolf?"

Remus's eyes widened as the colour drained from his face. He took several steps back, instinctively looking for an escape. "What?"

"Oh," Hermione said, scolding herself as she brought a hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't think—"

Sirius put a hand on Remus's shoulder to calm him. "It's all right, Mini-Moony. She knows."

Remus did not calm down. "How—Why . . . Why does she know?" he demanded, staring at Sirius before bringing his focus to each person in the room, watching as they looked at him like they . . . like they _knew_. Because they _did_ know. "Why does everyone know?"

"She figured it out her third year," Sirius said, gripping Remus a bit tighter. "I'll tell you the story later."

"I'm so sorry, Remus," Hermione whispered. "I shouldn't have been so casual about it."

He frowned, unable to meet her gaze, shame written all over his expression. Hermione struggled with wanting to hop out of bed and hug him until that look disappeared. "Yes," Remus replied, confirming what everyone already knew.

She smiled sweetly at him. "I'm sorry, I should have been more—"

"It's fine," he said quickly.

She nodded, taking a breath before speaking again. "I, umm, do . . . Does Sirius smell the same to you?"

Harry and Ron both stared at her, but Remus understood and nodded his head. "Yes. Same as he always has. Same with Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey."

"And Professor Lupin?"

Remus paused. "I . . . I don't really smell myself . . . or—"

"I meant . . . the wolf," she clarified.

He looked away again, clearing his throat. "Oh. It's odd. He's been . . . confused."

She smiled, her theory confirmed. "It's all the same. Same memories with varying differences, same scents, same magical signature too, I'd wager. There are some arguments as to whether or not the soul is the same if you believe in that kind of hogwash," she added while rolling her eyes. "I don't, so I doubt I'll bother looking into the research so . . . So, yes, Harry, Remus here knew your parents."

Harry and Ron both looked pleased to have had it all explained to them, but Remus had shoved his hands into his pockets. "It means I still can't go back, doesn't it?"

Hermione frowned. "I'm so sorry."

Ron ran a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell, Hermione. Is there anything you _don't_ know?"

"How to fly?" Harry said with a laugh, and everyone joined in, Hermione included, until a sharp pain reappeared in her ribs. "Hermione? Are you all right?"

She winced, placing her palm over the hospital gown that covered the bandage. "Still in a little . . . It hurts."

Sirius was right at her side, moving past Harry to look at her potions, searching for one that would help with the pain. "You're going to be in bed for a while, kitten. Ten potions at least, every day over the next month or so, until you're fully healed."

She shook her head. "I can't . . . My parents planned a trip."

Sirius scoffed. "You're not going on it. I'll have Dumbledore . . . Or maybe Molly can explain what happened."

"No!" Hermione jolted, yelping in pain. Suddenly, all three boys were right at her side, looking terrified. She waved them off, turning her attention back to Sirius, surprisingly the only adult in the room. "No, they can't . . . I don't want them to know what happened."

He frowned down at her. "Hermione. You snuck out of school, broke into a government facility, and nearly died. You don't think your parents have a right to know—"

"It's not about rights. Even if it were . . . but it's not. I'll be seventeen in a few months, and I swear if anyone tells them, I'll . . . I'll file to have them memory-charmed," she said, her words sounding suspiciously like a threat. "They don't know about the war or anything bad that's happened since I started school."

Harry frowned. "Nothing?"

She shook her head. "I told them about the troll first year, and it took me the entire summer to convince them to let me come back to Hogwarts. They _cannot_ know about this. They'll try to make me leave or . . . they'd do something foolish like talk to people. It would break the Statute of Secrecy, and the Ministry would get involved; I can't have that."

Harry nodded in understanding. "What'll you do then?"

"Magical accident," Remus said, first to Hermione and then looking to Sirius. "Send someone to her parents, tell her she had a bout of accidental magic due to something perfectly harmless to witches and wizards, but that she needs time to recover, and Muggles would be in danger until she got it under control."

Hermione smiled. "That's . . . That's actually quite brilliant," she said, flushing a bit when Remus's cheeks turned pink at her praise.

"I'm good at excuses." He shrugged, scratching at the scar on his neck.

Sirius smiled at them both, his eyes flickering from the werewolf to the witch in amusement. "I'll see if Arthur will do it. You'll come back to Grimmauld Place to recover once Madam Pomfrey lets you out. I'll take good care of you."

Hermione smiled in gratitude until something occurred to her. "Sirius! How are you outside of Grimmauld Place?! Ow!"

Harry sighed in frustration. "Hermione, sit back and stop fussing. You're going to hurt yourself more. Don't make me put a Body Bind on you. We'll tell you everything once you're better. Can she have something for the—"

"She's actually due for another Pain Potion," Remus said. "Those first three there." He gestured to the phials lined up on the bedside table. "She needs one in another hour, and the seven others aren't due until tonight after dinner." Everyone stopped and stared at him. "What? I've been stuck here with nothing to do or read since I can't leave the infirmary without an escort."

Sirius smirked. "All right, let's let the little witch recover. I'll go and talk to Madam Pomfrey and let her confirm Healer Lupin's diagnosis," he said sarcastically, chuckling when Remus punched him in the arm. Sirius placed his hands on Harry and Ron's shoulders, directing them out of the area, leaving behind Remus and Hermione.

"Thank you," he said once they were alone.

She smiled. "For what?"

"I umm . . . I thought I'd never know the truth or at least have any idea of what happened to me. Now, well, it's nice to think that there might be an answer."

"I'm sorry this happened to you. You'll get through it, though. You'll . . . We'll all take . . ." She paused and cleared her throat. "We all take care of each other."

Remus smiled at her, a lingering amount of anxiety in his expression that broke her heart a little bit as she remembered the painful loneliness that was so very obvious in her former professor. She remembered the Shrieking Shack and the reunion between the two Marauders, knowing only later the importance of that moment. Staring up into this Remus's eyes, Hermione vowed that he would never know what being alone felt like.

"Thank you," Remus whispered. "Hermione."

"You're welcome." She smiled, feeling her cheeks warm at the very sound of his voice. "Remus."


	7. Chapter 7

**June 23rd, 1996**

Once Arthur Weasley had gone to speak with Hermione's parents, stopping by Privet Drive as well to meet with Harry's aunt and uncle, everyone that had been stuck in the hospital wing at Hogwarts was sent to Grimmauld Place where Hermione would finish her recovery. Ron, Ginny, and the rest of the Weasleys returned to the Burrow, as the majority of the family had not yet been properly introduced to Bill's fiancée, Fleur Delacour, and Molly insisted that the whole brood be there to get to know the girl properly.

Remus had stayed with Hermione during the majority of her time in the hospital wing, finding comfort in the scent of rose oil and oranges that seemed to stay with her no matter how many horrible smelling potions Madam Pomfrey made her drink every day. They talked about school, about books, and Hermione had a keen interest in finding out how much the Hogwarts curriculum had changed over the years. She still felt that she was not being properly challenged in certain classes. Remus assured her that there were some subjects where he felt similarly.

"I'm rubbish at flying," she confessed in mild embarrassment.

He grinned. "I only made it through potions because I was privately tutored."

Back at Grimmauld Place, they said farewell to the cluster of Weasleys, nodding along as Molly gave them instructions on how to reheat the ten different meals she had made that were currently filling the cooling cabinet until it was almost bursting. Once everyone that was not staying in the old house had left to their own homes, Remus helped Hermione climb the stairs to her room.

"You make a lovely crutch, Remus," she told him with a laugh, draping her arm over his shoulder as he put a tentative hand around her waist to make sure she did not get dizzy from all the potions or lingering pain and fall backward.

He was used to girls complimenting him, flirting with him even, and sometimes outright trying to seduce him. Sirius had always said that he was positive it had something to do with the wolf—that girls could tell that he was dangerous and found it sexy. James insisted it was because Remus pretended to be a shy, good-natured boy while he was anything but, and witches thought him mysterious. Peter had always been a bit more obvious and said that maybe they just thought he was fit and knew that, by comparison to the other boys, Remus was less likely to embarrass a witch or break their heart, as James and Sirius were respectively prone to do.

He had done his best to push away the attention, but sometimes he was weak and gave in, especially when the moon was involved. He knew, no matter what, he could not get too close to any girl because of the danger he would be putting her in, not only by letting her get near a werewolf but because of the stigma that came with his condition. Plus, the likelihood that any girl would not run screaming when they found out his secret was low.

But Hermione already knew about his condition.

And she had called him lovely.

A lovely _crutch_. . . but lovely all the same.

* * *

"It's shocking, really, how quickly word has spread." Hermione sat on the bed in her room, the one that Remus had occupied until her return—he had since moved into the "boys' room" where Harry and Ron usually stayed. She picked up a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and shook her head. "Took them long enough," she said bitterly as she passed the paper to Remus, scowling at the headline:

 _SIRIUS BLACK FOUND INNOCENT. PETER PETTIGREW STILL AT LARGE_.

"Fourteen years too long if you ask me," he added angrily, setting the paper down in favour of another, unwilling to look at the grief-stricken and mental looking mugshot of his best friend.

The stack of papers had been waiting for them when they had arrived from Hogwarts. Minister Fudge had been working his team alongside Dumbledore and some members of the Order of the Phoenix, trying to repair the damage the Ministry had done in the year that Voldemort had been back. Sirius's freedom had been a top priority, as Harry refused to give _any_ statements about Fudge until it was done, using the guilt over how the Minister for Magic had run Harry's name through the mud over his declaration that Voldemort had returned. Once Sirius's name was cleared and Fudge forgiven, however, it appeared time for the Minister to clear his own name and reputation.

"Did she really make you use a Blood Quill?" Remus asked, looking over Hermione's shoulder at the photo on a different _Daily Prophet_ , where a screaming Dolores Umbridge was being led away from Hogwarts in shackles.

_UMBRIDGE GUILTY OF CHILD ABUSE?_

By the angry expression on Hermione's face, Remus did not need an audible answer to his question. Still, Harry was the one to answer him. "She's a cow. Fudge had a lot to do with her being at Hogwarts and taking over, but I don't think he knew about the quill. Or the fact that she tried to slip me Veritaserum."

"Or that she threatened to use the Cruciatus Curse on you," Hermione said with an angry hiss.

Harry nodded, picking up another paper. He scanned the article and then looked up, feigning shock as he read the headline. "Have you heard? Voldemort's back! Who knew?!" he said sarcastically as the image of Fudge declaring the return of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named at a press conference appeared on the front page.

Hermione smirked at him. "Still bitter?"

Harry shrugged, flopping back on the bed with a heavy sigh. "Only a bit. Sirius is free; I can't really complain there, now can I?"

Remus raised a brow. "Then why do you look like someone broke your favourite broom?"

Hermione frowned, patting Harry consolingly on the shoulder. "He has to go back to the Dursleys."

"Lily's sister, right? I heard she's a piece of work." Remus recalled conversations with Lily about the Muggle sister she had back in Cokeworth. Jealous and bitter were the kindest of words used. The other girls in Gryffindor who had visited the Evans' household during summer break had a more colourful description of Lily's sibling.

"Her husband and my cousin are just as bad," Harry admitted. "Worse even. Dumbledore says I have to go back for at least two weeks to renew some sort of magic that's placed on their house. At least I can bring Sirius with me this time."

Remus's eyes widened. "Sirius is going to meet Lily's sister? Is that wise?"

Harry laughed. "He has to stay in Padfoot form."

"That won't stop him from doing something awful," Remus said, just thinking of the many times he had seen his friend shift into his Animagus form and get into just as much, if not more, trouble than his human counterpart. "Keep an eye on him."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Is it just going to be the two of you here with Lupin while we're gone?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "Us and the Order. Ginny wanted to stay but Mrs Weasley insists that they all go home to the Burrow to meet Bill's fiancée."

"She's nice," Remus said, surprised when Hermione grimaced at his words only to cover up her expression as quickly as possible. "I met her a few weeks ago. She's the whole reason I have a background story for my fake parents. I'm supposed to tell people who ask that my mother was Emilie Delacour. It was Fleur's idea. Technically, I guess she's supposed to be my cousin now."

Hermione's brief scowl was replaced with something resembling shock. "Oh. That was nice of her."

Harry grinned. "She's a nice person. I met her during the Triwizard Tournament," he explained to Remus, who had been told briefly about the experience from a year earlier. "She comes off as a bit cold at first. I think it's a defence thing because she's veela and has to deal with people constantly gawking at her. You know, like Ron does. But she was really nice to me there toward the end."

"Well, you did save her sister's life," Hermione pointed out. Harry groaned, rolling his eyes. She chuckled and leant in toward Remus. "Don't let anyone know, but Harry's a _hero_ ," she loudly whispered, laughing when Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "If you hated it so much, Harry, you'd stop rescuing people."

Harry scoffed at her. "I'm not surprised that Fleur offered to help. She's a good person."

"Pretty too," Hermione commented under her breath.

Harry shrugged, his cheeks tinting pink. "Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but . . ."

Hermione and Remus both chuckled along with him. "Don't tell Ginny that," Hermione cautioned. "She'll hex you. Mrs Weasley isn't a fan either. She thinks that Bill's jumping into marriage too quickly."

Harry scoffed again. "That's a bit silly, isn't it? She and Mr Weasley were young when _they_ got married. And my parents were just out of Hogwarts."

"I'm shocked James waited _that_ long," Remus said with a laugh. "He was an idiot for Lily."

Harry looked up at him with a smile. They had not been able to spend much time alone together, but whenever he had a chance, Remus did his best to tell Harry as much about Lily and James as he could. It seemed that Sirius and Lupin were stuck with the grief that came from the memories of war, but Remus, despite knowing how his friends had died, still had fresh memories of them, young and so very much full of life. Talking about them with Harry made it not hurt as much for him.

Harry's smile briefly faded. "I saw something a few months ago. A memory. Seemed like my mum didn't like my dad much."

Remus frowned. "Whose memory? Sirius's?"

Harry shook his head. "Snape."

"Snape?" Remus's eyes widened, having forgotten that his former rival—well, more Sirius and James's formal rival—was not only a member of the Order, but a former Death Eater, a spy, and oh . . . the Potions Professor at Hogwarts . . . where Remus would be shortly returning . . . to be a student . . . taught by a man who positively loathed him. He tried to ignore the building guilt and anxiety in his own chest at his inevitable future confrontation with the man who Remus had last remembered hanging upside down by his pants under James's wand. "How would you have even gotten a hold of something like that?"

"Putting his nose where it doesn't belong," Hermione said with a disapproving tone as she flipped through the _Daily Prophet_ in her hands.

Harry sighed at her words but ultimately relented, nodding his head in agreement. "He was supposed to have been teaching me Occlumency. And I don't care what you say, Hermione, he was an absolute git about it," he quickly said when Hermione had opened her mouth to argue with him. "Completely rotten. Anyway, he stepped out of the room one session, and I kind of . . . sort of . . . accidentally—"

"On purpose," Hermione interrupted.

"—sneaked into his Pensieve. It was . . . It wasn't good. I saw Sirius, and my dad, and you and . . . Dad and Sirius had him hung upside down."

Remus winced and looked up, noticing that Hermione was watching his reaction. "Did you hear what Snape said to—?"

Harry nodded. "He called my mum a Mudblood."

Remus's eyes widened at the word, immediately looking to Hermione, knowing that she was a Muggle-born. Where Remus was from, it was not okay to say the word even in reference to someone else mentioning it.

"It's fine, Remus," Hermione said. "That word doesn't mean anything to me. When you get called it enough, you build up quite the tolerance."

He growled low. "That's not a good thing. No one should _ever_ call you that, Hermione." His eyes briefly flashed a protective gold. Hermione noticed the change, and Remus fully expected fear to be the resulting reaction. Instead, she put a calming hand on his forearm, and his eyes changed back instantly.

"Did she really hate him?" Harry asked, snapping Remus out of his daze. "Lupin and Sirius said no. But they mostly remember the last few years my parents were alive. After they were married and all. It was just a month ago for you."

Remus shook his head, swallowing hard when Hermione removed her hand from his arm. "Lily didn't hate him. She didn't think too highly of him because of how he acted. They had a weird relationship. He'd flirt with her, embarrass her, and she'd hex him and act like she was infuriated with him over it—sometimes she was—but then I'd hear her giggling with her friends. She liked him, but . . . He could be a git sometimes, you know. Didn't take time to think things through. Just acted. A lot like Sirius. And I—"

"What about _you_?" Hermione asked curiously.

Remus frowned, disappointed in himself. "Well, I just let them do whatever they wanted, didn't I?"

"Nothing to beat yourself up over, mate," Harry said.

Remus shook his head. "No, it _is_. At the time, I just wanted friends. I was happy to just have them in my life, and I always worried that if I said or did the wrong thing, like got them in trouble or told them not to do something, that they'd stop. I know it's ridiculous considering what they went through to help me, but that's how I felt. Like I _owed_ them for being friends with me. I was wrong. I should have stood up to them."

It had been something he had thought of since his arrival in 1996. Discovering that two of his friends had been murdered because of another and that his best friend had been framed for it made him angry. He had been angry at Lupin, blaming _him_ for what Sirius had gone through, blaming _him_ for not trusting their friend and saving the others. But really, Remus saw in his mind how the past had played out. He knew enough to put the pieces together and see that James and Sirius had gotten out of hand, something he should have known months earlier when Sirius tried to trick Snape beneath the Whomping Willow. But even then, Remus had too easily forgiven his friend. Just like that, they had all gone back to messing with Snape, a man who apparently became a Death Eater.

He did not know how yet, but Remus felt _that_ was important. That somehow maybe, if Snape had not been pushed too far, or maybe if he had paid more attention to Peter instead of just following James and Sirius around, James and Lily would be alive. "Maybe if I had then—"

"No maybes," Hermione insisted, interrupting him. "No what ifs, Remus. It won't help you."

He looked down. "Snape became a Death Eater. Hermione, he always was a little odd, and everyone knew that he read about the Dark Arts, but so did a lot of people; Slytherins mostly." He recalled an afternoon when he and Sirius had caught Regulus Black reading a book on Dark Magic that he had nicked from the Restricted Section of the school library. "Still, Snape . . . He wasn't _bad_. He and Lily . . . Harry, they were best friends." Harry's eyes widened in shock at the news. "The only thing I ever saw them argue about was Dark Magic and your dad and Sirius. Maybe . . . Maybe we all pushed him too far, and that's why he—"

"He made his own choices," Hermione said. "What Harry's dad and Sirius did was wrong, but _I've_ been bullied, and you don't see me signing up to be a Death Eater, do you?" Her tone was firm and slightly bitter. "At least you can admit you were wrong."

Remus nodded. "Do you think I should apologise? I'd meant to, you know, before I came here. Or at least I'd thought about it."

Harry shook his head quickly. "No. I think you apologising will make it worse."

"Maybe just prove to Professor Snape that you're different," Hermione suggested. "That you're willing to stand up to your friends when they do something wrong." She cast a sideways glance at Harry who rolled his eyes.

Remus chuckled. "Will my friends be doing wrong things?"

"Who us?" Harry asked innocently. "Never."

* * *

**June 23rd, 1996**

Harry's trunk was repacked, and Lupin had held out a pink collar and leash that Tonks had purchased earlier that morning, a smirk on his face as he teased Sirius with it. Sirius huffed in irritation before he slipped into Padfoot form, allowing himself to be collared. He had been lectured by no less than four different people to be on his best behaviour and to not shift back into his human form in front of the Muggles. Harry needed to stay with the Dursleys for at least two weeks, and getting him kicked out of the house early would just make everything difficult.

Once the pair were ushered off, Alastor Moody escorting them to Surrey, Remus and Hermione ate lunch with the remaining Order members before she was due for another potion that put her to sleep for a few hours, leaving Remus to catch up on some reading.

When Hermione woke, she descended the stairs, wincing every few steps at the continued ache in her side. It was a good ache, one that Madam Pomfrey had told her would signify proper healing. She made her way downstairs toward the library, eager to get a head start on a few subjects she wanted to research during the approaching school year, as well as some things she planned on discussing with Remus later that night.

Spotting Lupin sitting in a large wingback chair near the fireplace, she smiled. "Hello."

Lupin looked up as she entered. "Good evening, Hermione. How are you feeling?"

"Much better, Professor, thank you." She stepped inside and took an immediate seat on the sofa, already exhausted from climbing down the stairs.

Lupin chuckled. "I've told you that you can call me—"

"Hi, Remus!" Hermione interrupted the man, her eyes quickly drawn to the doorway.

Remus smiled brightly at her. "You're looking better. Any pain? I could run and grab you a potion if you need."

She shook her head, a slight blush to her cheeks. "I'm fine, thank you. You're so considerate to offer." Her smile widened when she noticed Remus grinning, preening a bit under her compliment. Hermione briefly looked away, having almost forgotten that they were not alone in the room. Her gaze settled on Lupin who was staring at the pair, mouth open and brow raised. "Is everything all right, Professor?"

Lupin closed his mouth and made eye contact with his younger self, brow still raised. Remus briefly narrowed his eyes at the man, and Lupin smiled and shook his head. "I'm just fine, Hermione. What are the two of you up to this evening?"

Remus sat down beside her. "Hermione was going to help me catch up with anything I might have missed over the last few years, just in case the Hogwarts curriculum has changed at all. What're _you_ doing?" he asked, glancing to the stack of envelopes on the table.

Lupin looked down. "Contacting some old . . . acquaintances. Work for the Order."

"What do you do? For the Order, I mean," Remus asked.

Lupin frowned. "Most of it is pretty classified. In the _first_ war, I was a liaison . . . you could say. With the werewolf packs."

Remus's eyes widened dramatically, and his breath caught in his throat. "You met other wolves? What were they like?"

Bitter memories reflected in Lupin's gaze. "It wasn't the best of circumstances," he said, a slightly angry tone to his voice. Remus and Hermione remained silent, the young werewolf still eager to hear more. After a while, Lupin sighed and ran a hand through his greying hair. "They're lied to a lot by Greyback and the other Alpha sires." He noted the way that Remus flinched a bit at the mention of the wolf that attacked him— _them_. "They're taught to fear humans early on after their first transformation, and fear is a very driving emotion. But Dumbledore needed someone to speak to them and perhaps find out what information was being passed to them by Death Eaters. Voldemort wants the werewolves on his side. He sees them, _us_ , as weapons. My job was to infiltrate, gain their trust, and try to explain that there were more options available to them."

Hermione smiled sadly. "It's very brave of you, sir. To risk yourself to save others who don't even know that—"

"I want to help," Remus blurted out. "If Dumbledore sends you back maybe I could—"

Lupin's eyes hardened. "No."

"But why not?" Remus asked, his voice tense. "You're were the only werewolf Dumbledore had before, but now _I'm_ here, and we could be twice as—"

Lupin's eyes flashed gold, and Hermione sucked in a breath at the sight. The older werewolf growled at the younger and snapped, "Over my dead body."

Remus snarled back instinctively, and Hermione reached out, touching his arm. "Remus," she whispered.

He shook his head, brushing her off. "Why not? Why can't I help? I stood by and let bad things happen in school, and I can't do that anymore. People died and I . . . you _. . . we_ didn't stop it from happening. I have to do something to keep it from happening all over again. What else am I supposed to do?"

Lupin took a breath to calm himself, his gaze flickering to Hermione as though he needed to remember that, despite arguing with another wolf, there was a human present, and he needed to keep his temper in check before he did or said something hurtful. The moon was only a week away, and that meant that soon both werewolves would be dealing with rough symptoms and strained emotions.

"You are supposed to be a sixteen-year-old wizard, and go to Hogwarts, and make friends, and turn in boring essays on the Goblin Wars and how to turn a teapot into a tortoise and proper duelling techniques. You are supposed to have the chance that I didn't," Lupin insisted. "You are supposed to be free of the scars that I wear."

Remus tensed at the word. After a long minute of silence, he quietly asked, "How many?"

Lupin swallowed hard. "A lot."

Remus looked over the body of the other wolf, as though he could try and see what was beneath the robes and many layers. More layers than he himself wore. It made sense, of course, that the scars would multiply over the years, but now Remus had other questions. "How many are from other wolves?"

Lupin sighed, lowering his gaze back to the envelopes in front of him. "A lot. Now, no more talk of this, all right? There's a potion in a phial on the kitchen counter I want you to take." Hermione seemed to react to the words by inhaling sharply, as though she were suddenly very excited. "It tastes awful but you need to drink it every night for the next week. It will help with the full moon. It's . . . not a cure, but it helps us keep our minds after the initial transformation. We're less . . . aggressive."

Remus's mouth fell open. He had been teased a bit by Sirius about Wolfsbane and something about a potion and a surprise, but this was beyond anything he could have hoped for. To keep his mind during the full moon? To not have the desire to hurt and . . . "Will I remember?"

"Yes."

He was filled with excitement, and he could feel his heart beating hard against his chest at the idea of being able to retain more than just a blurred memory that felt like being drugged and beaten. The thought did bring up another question. "Does it still hurt?"

Lupin frowned. "Yes."

Remus swallowed down the rising bile at the anticipation of the moon in another week. Seven days and he would be a monster again. A broken, bleeding, monster. He frowned as the painful reminder took hold of him, wiping out the moments of near happiness and normalcy he had experienced over the last few days with Harry and Hermione. He nodded, his head and heart heavy with the burden of his condition. "All right. Thank you."

Hermione, staring in agony at the sad looks on both of their faces, finally stood and cleared her throat. She glanced down at Remus and held a hand out to him. "Come on, Remus." She smiled when he just stared at her hand as though he was surprised she was even standing near him, let alone willing to touch him, after the reminder of what he really was. "You need your potion, and I need some of that leftover treacle tart from lunch."

Remus gave her a sad smile, hesitantly taking her hand. He brushed his thumb over her knuckles, and her cheeks flushed a touch at the contact. They both silently said goodbye to Lupin before leaving the library.

Once alone, Lupin sighed and leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. After a moment, he let out an amused chuckle. "Well, this is an interesting development."


	8. Chapter 8

**June 25th, 1996**

The Wolfsbane Potion was the most disgusting thing he'd ever had in his mouth, and that was saying something considering one morning after the full moon at the end of fourth year, he woke up to the remains of several rat carcases in the Shrieking Shack. He had thrown up and refused to eat anything for the rest of the day; Peter had not been able to look him in the eye for a full week.

The idea of taking the potion was made infinitely better knowing that it would help him keep his mind during the actual transformation during the approaching full moon. That and Hermione made him biscuits.

"Double, double chocolate," she said with a grin as she set a plate in front of him, stealing two for herself.

His eyes tripled in size, and he snagged one immediately, not caring what he looked like when he devoured it. After rolling his eyes into the back of his head as the flavour of the potion washed away from his mouth, leaving behind only the taste of sugar, butter, and chocolate, Remus smiled. "You're an angel. Positively heaven sent."

Hermione blushed. "They're not _that_ good."

Remus chuckled, devouring another, not caring that his mouth was full when he said, "If you had swallowed what I just did, you'd be grateful for just about anything. That being said, these are amazing." After swallowing, he looked up at her. "Although wouldn't double, double chocolate just mean quadruple chocolate?"

"Chocolate squared," she said, and they both laughed. "I'm glad you like them. I was worried I didn't get the recipe right. Mrs Weasley said it was your favourite, and so I—"

"How would she know my . . ." Remus started to ask, sighing when he realised. "Oh, not my favourite but _my_ favourite." He gestured with his hand to the floors above them where Lupin was.

Hermione frowned, looking slightly embarrassed over her mistake. "I don't think you're the same person. I mean, to a certain degree you _technically_ are, and . . . I just wanted to make you feel better."

He placed his hand hesitantly over hers. "You did. It's a lot to adjust to. I'm being too sensitive. Besides, outside of the Order and you, Harry, and Ron, no one else knows who I really am, so pretty soon people will stop making the mistake," he said, adding, "hopefully."

"You better eat those up," Hermione smiled softly, staring at his hand over hers, swallowing when his thumb brushed against her knuckles. "If Professor Lupin smells them, you'll have to fight him in order to keep your own biscuits."

Her sweet laugh made him feel warm inside. "I think I could take on the old wolf."

"That so?" Lupin smirked as he walked into the kitchen, his eyes darting to the plate in the centre of the table, ignoring when Remus and Hermione quickly pulled their hands away from one another as though they had been caught in a compromising position. "Is that Molly's recipe?"

Remus growled. Hearing himself, he turned bright red and offered an apologetic glance to Hermione. She smiled at him as though it was perfectly normal for a teenage boy to growl at people. "Maybe I could share . . . _one_ ," he said, very slowly pushing the plate toward Lupin, though he kept the tips of his fingers curled around the edge, anchoring it down to prevent the whole thing from being stolen.

Lupin gratefully accepted one biscuit with a nod of thanks. "How are you feeling today, Hermione?"

"Took the last of my potions this morning. Just a few more days of rest and I should be good as new." She tried to stand, wincing when she moved too quickly. "Still a bit stiff, though."

"I'll clean up for you." Remus stood up, heading for the kitchen where mixing bowls were still set out and a bit of chocolate splattered on the counter.

Hermione tried to object. "It's fine, Remus, I can—"

He smiled at her, reaching for his wand. "Don't worry about it. Nothing a little magic can't have fixed up in a moment."

She gasped in horror. "Remus! You can't use magic outside of school!" Remus smirked and looked at Lupin. Hermione caught the glance, turning to stare at her former Professor. "Can _he_ use magic outside of Hogwarts? Is this because he's technically from an alternate world or because it's a different time, and the magic recognises him as your age?" Her eyes widened with every new question. "Would the Ministry even recognise his wand or magical signature?"

Lupin sighed, looking mildly embarrassed. Remus was grinning as though he had just gotten his older self in trouble. "Hermione," Remus said, drawing her attention. "This house is under a Fidelius Charm."

"I know that."

He smiled at her, flicked his wand to set the dishes to washing themselves, and then rejoined her at the table. "Can magic of any kind break through a Fidelius Charm? Can Aurors track anyone into this house? Can the Ministry use spells to spy from the outside in?"

Her mouth fell open. "You're using the Fidelius Charm to sneak around the underage magic law?" She looked scandalised for even knowing about it, cheeks bright red and brown eyes wide. Remus was smirking, relishing the flushed colour of her skin. Folding her arms, she shook her head in disapproval. "I thought you'd know better. Honestly, both of you," she quipped, looking at Lupin and pinning him with a glare.

He gave her a sly grin. "Did you think Harry's father and Sirius got up to trouble on their own when we were all at Hogwarts?"

Hermione's nose twitched. "Honestly? A bit, yes."

Lupin laughed. "Hermione, who do you think put the majority of charms on the Marauder's Map?"

Remus blinked. "She knows about the map?"

"Harry has it now. Cloak as well."

Remus grinned as though the prospect of going back to Hogwarts became twice as interesting. "Fantastic."

Hermione pointed her finger in his face. "You will behave at school. I am a prefect, and I have a hard enough time keeping Ron and Harry under control, not to mention every other hooligan."

Remus smiled at her and tried—failed—to look properly innocent. " _I'm_ not a prefect anymore. That's going to be a bit odd."

"Promise me that you'll behave, Remus Lupin," she said firmly.

Remus raised his right hand and nodded. "I solemnly swear—"

At the words, Hermione made a loud scoffing noise, rolled her eyes at him, and stood up. Lupin let out a full belly laugh, but she ignored him. "You're positively incorrigible," she said to Remus, the tiniest hint of a smirk on her face as she stormed out of the kitchen.

Lupin watched as Remus stared after her, his gaze lingering a little too long on her curves as she disappeared through the door. Remus swallowed hard, and Lupin cleared his throat to draw his attention. "What?" At a raised eyebrow in reply, Remus sighed and ran his hand down his face. "I thought you said that the Wolfsbane would help with the symptoms. I don't feel any different."

Lupin shrugged. "Not _those_ symptoms. Those are still just as bad as ever. If not worse, because aside from the occasional Order member, you're trapped in a house with another wolf and a singular female. You'll be more instinctual about some things. Food for instance. And . . . other things."

"Great," Remus said bitterly. "And here I was hoping for a normal transition. They already know what I am, and now I get to remind them all because _you're_ around. Sorry," he said as he stood, noting that his temper was getting the better of him. "How are you not as bad as I am?"

"I've had twice as many years as you to adjust."

Remus's shoulders rolled forward and tensed. "Everyone at Hogwarts is going to know about me, aren't they?"

Lupin sighed, remembering the very moment his teaching career had abruptly ended. "They . . . will suspect because of me. Because they don't understand how lycanthropy works. When people are told that you're my son, they'll suspect. When they see how you react the closer the full moon becomes, they'll all but know. You just have to handle it with care as best as you can."

Remus did not reply at first, only stared at his older self, wondering again how many scars he wore. Surely, whatever he had to deal with in the approaching year at Hogwarts would pale in comparison to whatever Lupin would be facing as a member of the Order.

* * *

**June 28th, 1996**

The full moon symptoms became worse as the week wore on.

Someone needed to stay at Grimmauld Place and take care of Remus and Hermione, and that job fell to Lupin, who was suffering the effects of his condition as well. There had been talk about using a house-elf to help out, but Kreacher could no longer be trusted—and had been gifted to Hogwarts by Sirius with an emphatic "And don't come back!" So Remus and Lupin did their best to avoid one another when they could, knowing that any simple provocation by either could cause problems with their inner wolves, each scratching beneath the surface of their skin.

Mealtimes were terrible, making either feeling ravenous or nauseated. Hermione—who should have been resting herself—fell into the caretaker role, something she said she was happy to do when both werewolves were clearly suffering from the pains that came with heightened senses as the moon approached. Tempers were high, but Lupin had a better control of himself, and Remus had been forced to apologise more than once for snapping over one thing or another.

Even Hermione got caught in his wrath once. Though he had only given her sarcasm, he spent a good six hours repeatedly apologising for his attitude, regardless of the fact that she insisted she understood and had forgiven him during the first apology.

Being around Hermione . . . _That_ came with problems on its own.

"Are you in pain, Remus?" Her hair was still wet from an earlier shower, curls clinging to the side of her long neck, drawing his attention. His eyes locked on her pulse point as she stepped too close, surrounding him with the smell of rose oil and oranges.

"Yes," he replied, throat dry.

"Do you need anything?"

He stayed quiet for a very long time, just staring at her. _Need_. Eventually, he just stood, hands shaking as he forced himself to leave the room without a word, feeling that silence was the best option.

He had spent his youth at Hogwarts, surrounded by many girls, but he was rarely forced to be with just one in such close proximities this close to the moon. Normally, he had his friends there to distract him, often surrounding him with the scent of sweat-soaked Quidditch uniforms, whatever they had sneaked up from the kitchens, smuggled firewhisky, and Muggle cologne, all of which often overpowered the scents wafting down the stairs of the girls' dormitory. It was usually on prefect rounds or study sessions with female classmates that Remus ended up in bad situations. Caught off guard, he submitted to the wolf and the attentions of the fairer sex. And those times he had let himself wallow in guilt afterward.

Hermione was different. _Needed_ to be different.

She was a _friend_. Someone who knew his secret, did not hate him or even pity him for it, but genuinely cared and wanted to help. Remus could _not_ screw up.

The closer they came to the full moon, the worse the nights became. Despite—poorly placed—Silencing Charms, his heightened senses easily picked up the noises and scents coming from Lupin's room. The older man had locked himself behind the door with Tonks, who rushed back to Grimmauld Place the very second that her shift at the Ministry was over.

After two straight hours of being forced to overhear them have sex, Remus began wondering if he would be charged with murder or suicide if he was able to catch Lupin off guard and tear his throat out. Dragging his pillow and blanket down the stairs, Remus made his way to the library several floors down, as far away from Lupin's room as possible.

He should not have been surprised to find Hermione sitting on the sofa with a book in her hand.

"Can't sleep?" she asked, looking at the pillow and blanket in his hand and the heavy bags beneath his eyes. When he shook his head and dragged himself into the room, dropping down on the opposite sofa with dead weight, Hermione frowned. "Is insomnia a symptom of lycanthropy?"

"No," Remus groaned into the pillow. "But heightened . . . _energy_ is, and so is listening to other wolves _spend_ said heightened energy."

Hermione furrowed her brows. "I don't understand."

"Tonks stayed the night."

"What does that—?" Her eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed bright red. "Oh. Oh! And you can hear . . . _that_?" He only nodded, slowly blinking his red-tired eyes. She frowned at the sight of him looking so exhausted. "Is there anything I can do to help? Is there . . . Did Sirius or James ever do anything to help?"

Remus winced. "It's . . . No, it's fine."

Hermione sat up. "No, please. If there's anything I can do to help you get some rest, let me help."

He shook his head. "You'll think it's weird."

She frowned. "Why?"

He sighed. "Because it's not something that teenage boys normally do, but Sirius was never very normal, to begin with. And he started doing it when we were still really young, and I'd get headaches." Remus was normally not so open, but he was desperate for a proper rest. He looked at her, almost smiling at the strangely hopeful look she had in her eyes, sitting up straight like a house-elf, eagerly awaiting instructions. "He'd . . ." Remus sighed in frustration, unable to properly articulate. He reached out for her hand, gently taking her index and middle finger in his own and then lightly stroked them over his eyebrows and the crease between them. When she smiled at the gesture and began to massage his forehead on her own, he visibly relaxed, melting under her touch.

Hermione chuckled. "My mum used to do something similar when I was little," she said softly and ran her fingers over the small line in his forehead—likely from worrying so much—and down his cheeks, around his ears and back up to his brow.

She almost missed it when he whispered, "Mine too."

Remus nearly bit his tongue trying to keep himself quiet the first time she ran her fingers around his ears. He was grateful when she started talking again, as it distracted him a bit. " _Sirius_ really used to do this?"

"He's always been a physically affectionate person. It was really weird at first, but we all got used to it. He needs it, I think. You've seen his mother's portrait. The witch left a lot to be desired in a maternal figure."

"What about _your_ parents?" Hermione asked.

Remus sighed. "Tired and sad, but good and kind. They love . . . _loved_ me, in their own way. My condition is . . . _was_. . . rough on them."

Hermione doubled her efforts to relax him, scratching her fingers lightly at the base of his neck. "I'm sorry. I know we're all a poor replacement for the people you left behind."

He turned his head and looked at her, offering a small smile. "I miss them. And you're not a replacement, Hermione. I'll admit, it's hard sometimes to think of Harry as someone very different from James, and Sirius is still Sirius to me, but _you_. . . you're a distinctly unique witch. The only people who knew me, the _real_ me, were Sirius, James, and Peter."

"No girlfriends?" she asked teasingly.

Remus laughed. "Not . . . exactly." He watched with interest as her nose twitched a bit at his answer. "And the few girls who ever showed interest, they never knew my secret. I was told not to tell anyone. I didn't even tell my friends; they figured it out. Like you."

She smiled. "I'm glad we're friends, Remus."

"Me too, Hermione," he said with a yawn. "It's a great deal less awkward having a girl do this than Sirius. Honestly, though, you're far too kind. I'm not deserving."

She shook her head at his words. "Go to sleep, Remus."

He did, and Hermione leant against the end of the sofa, curled up on the floor near his head where she eventually nodded off. And that was how Lupin and Tonks found them the following morning when they had finally emerged from his room, eager for a hearty breakfast to replenish spent energy and electrolytes.

After closing the door to the library and doubling the efforts on the Silencing Charm, Tonks smiled. "They're cute together."

Lupin grimaced. "You do know that's _technically_ me in there, right?"

She laughed. "Don't get caught up in the technicalities. I think it's sweet."

"I think it makes me nervous. Less about him being a younger me and more, well, because I know how a younger me thinks and acts," he said with a heavy sigh. "James and Lily were the ones who were supposed to have kids. How did Sirius and I end up as parents?" He rolled his eyes when Tonks snorted, burying her laugh against his chest as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "I need to talk to Sirius. Can you hang around here today while I make a trip to Surrey?"

Tonks smiled and toyed with the buttons on his shirt. "Will you make it worth my while when you get back?"

Lupin struggled to contain the grin that was becoming a permanent part of his day since she had all but glued herself into his life after the Department of Mysteries fiasco. " _Well_ worth it."

* * *

Lupin Apparated near Mrs Figg's garden, a known hidden point to Order members in Little Whinging. He paused a moment to say hello to the woman and accept an offered biscuit, thanking her profusely for her generosity before taking the short walk to Privet Drive. The Dursleys' house looked just like all the rest, as ordinary and common as any other, though the shine on the car out front was a bit excessive compared to the others on the street.

He knocked on the door, unsurprised when it was Harry who opened it, as he could hear the angry voice of Vernon Dursley shouting from further within. Harry looked up at him with wide eyes and a happy smile. "Please tell me that there's some emergency I'm needed for. A battle to fight, basilisk to kill, dragon to escape from?"

Lupin chuckled a bit, placing an understanding hand on the boy's shoulder. "It'll be over before you know it, Harry. Just another week or so. The very second Professor Dumbledore gives the word, we'll have you out of this house."

"Who's that at the door!?" Vernon bellowed from within, stomping his way to the front where he flung the front door and Harry aside. "We're not buying anything!" Lupin raised a brow, and in the split second it took for him to open his mouth to explain, Vernon took one look at Remus's robes and his face turned purple. "Oh, it's one of _you_ ," he sneered. "Come to take him away or drop off another mouth for me to feed?"

Harry sighed. "Uncle Vernon is upset. He claims that Padfoot is eating him out of house and home."

An irritable part of Lupin looked at Vernon Dursley and thought that surely he could not be suffering _too_ much. "I apologise if the _guard_ dog we've placed here with your family is causing a problem. I was assured that money was sent along with Harry to provide for the cost of his food and anything else necessary," he said, leaving the "potential damages" part of the statement silent.

"They bought him _dog_ food," Harry clarified.

"Of course we did!" Vernon spat. "He's a dog, isn't he?"

"I tried to tell them that Padfoot wouldn't eat it."

"If you think I'm going to feed human food to that mangy, filthy animal—" Vernon tried to say but was cut off when the dog in question shoved past him, jumping into Lupin's arms.

"Right then," Lupin said, clearing his throat. "Harry, would you mind if I took your dog for a walk around the neighbourhood?"

Vernon made a move to say something, likely a demand that Lupin take the dog and never return, but Padfoot turned his head and growled at the man, forcing Vernon to pale slightly at the bared teeth of the creature and back away. Harry sighed and nodded his head. "Thanks, Professor. I think he needs to get out of this house for a bit. I've got homework to get to anyways. If I leave it all until September first, Hermione'll kill me."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, when they were a few blocks down at a local park and hidden away from Muggles by a Notice-Me-Not, Sirius sat on a bench, inhaling a cigarette with a similar look on his face as the first hot meal he had after breaking out of Azkaban. "I love you."

Lupin rolled his eyes. "Love you too, Pads."

Sirius looked at his friend. "I was talking to the _cigarette_ ," he declared and inhaled again, relishing the taste of freedom before blowing the smoke out of his nose. "It's worse than Harry ever let on, Moony. Lily did not just get all the magic from that family, she got the looks, the personality, and any drop of joy that likely ever existed. Petunia's an uppity bint, her husband's a bloated arsehole, and that kid . . . Moony there's something _wrong_ with that bloody kid. I think one encounter with dementors fucked him up worse than twelve years with the beasts did to _me_. I'd almost feel bad if he wasn't such a little wanker."

"How's Harry?" Lupin asked.

"Good," Sirius said, nodding. "Better that I'm there, I think. Anytime there's an issue, I can tell that they're holding back like they think I'm going to attack them at his command if they push too far. I learned a lot about his life growing up there these past few days. I'm keeping it together, but fuck all . . . I'm gonna dig up their gardens and chew every last shoe in the house, maybe piss on the sofa, before we leave."

"Is he going to be all right if you leave? You don't have to—"

"I'm coming back to Grimmauld for the full moon," Sirius said, interrupting him. "Harry understands. I swore on my life that I'd _never_ leave you alone for it again if I could help it." His expression was guilt-ridden as though recalling every full moon he had ever been able to catch through the window in his Azkaban cell over the many years. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Sirius finished his cigarette and flicked the end onto the dirt. "Besides," he said, clearing his throat and the tension, "I'm not going to miss Mini-Moony's first full moon with us."

"That's umm . . . kind of why I needed to talk to you."

Sirius frowned. "He all right?"

"I suppose. Symptoms are a bit worse with two wolves in the house. Instinct settling in and all. He's not used to being around others like . . . us. The first werewolf I ever met outside of Greyback was in the war," Lupin said, letting out a heavy sigh. "Can't be easy for him. Wolfsbane or not, I'm expecting some sort of confrontation once the moon rises."

Sirius sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I thought that might happen too. I remember the first time Padfoot met Moony. It was a bit of a struggle, but we adjusted. Wolfsbane will make it easier because he'll be a bit more in charge. _That_ what you're worried about?"

Lupin shook his head. "Do you remember sixth year?"

Sirius laughed. "Do I ever! Best year of my life. I got away from my parents, Prongs grew his hair out long trying to look like me, and his mum cut it in his sleep during Christmas hols. Snivellus stopped stalking Lily, and she started being a bit friendlier to the rest of us. And then the girls," he said with a grin. "You pulling that broomstick out of your arse at the beginning of sixth year was brilliant."

Green eyes narrowed at Sirius, and the man laughed in reply, completely unaffected by the silent threat. "Don't look at me like that, Moony. I know you tried to be all noble and whatnot for as long as you could, but sex blew off steam and helped with the moons. It wasn't _my_ fault that you were too self-deprecating to try and hold a relationship with any of the birds. I tried more than once to get you to untwist your knickers about it, but you're fucking stubborn. I was more than happy to be the rebound for all the pretty witches who thought they'd stick it to you good in the aftermath by letting _me_ stick it to _them_ ," he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Lupin's cheeks turned pink, and he looked down in mild shame over the memories. "It wasn't like . . . I never meant to . . . You know perfectly well that I wanted to try and make it work when . . . But it was too dangerous, and I was—"

"A teenage werewolf with self-esteem issues," Sirius offered with a small chuckle. "You apologised to every one of those girls, Moony, and most knew you were genuine about it all. Teenagers break each other's hearts. It's a bloody rite of passage, mate. Don't get all hot and bothered about something that happened twenty years ago. Especially since you currently _stink_ of sex. How's my cousin, by the way, you lech?"

If his cheeks had been pink before, Lupin's entire face was near red now. "I didn't come to talk about _me_ me, but . . . the _other_ me!" he snapped, clearly embarrassed. "I remember, back at Hogwarts, you and I sitting down and talking about using . . . you know . . ."

"Shagging," Sirius said. "For Merlin's sake, Moony, you're thirty-six-years-old. If you can't say it, you shouldn't be doing it."

Lupin sighed in frustration. "Do you remember _when_ you made the suggestion that sex would help alleviate full moon aggression?"

Sirius scratched his head. "Just before O.W.L.s, I think. I remember because you'd lost your virginity to Florence Fortescue behind the greenhouses a few months earlier, and you'd told us all she was tutoring you in Herbology, but everyone knew what was really going on because Bertha Jorkins caught the two of you—"

"Pads!"

"Yeah, right before O.W.L.s then. Just after your big post-deflowering pity party but before you took up with MacDonald. I remember she's what broke you because she kept coming round the Potter's asking after you since you refused to give her your Floo address and wouldn't return her owls," Sirius said with a smile, basking in the happy memories. "What's this have to do with Mini-Moony?"

Lupin stared at his friend and then sighed. "This morning I found him and Hermione asleep in the library. He was on the sofa, and she was on the floor, but they were practically snuggling together. And his wolf has been acting . . . possessive of her."

Sirius smiled. "Aww, that's . . . Oh," he said as understanding took hold. "Oh! Yeah, that's bad. Harry'll flip if he thinks she's in danger of being hurt, and who knows what Ron or Ginny will do."

Lupin frowned deeply.

Sirius sighed, patting his friend on the shoulder. "It's not _you_. _You're_ not hurting Hermione. You and little Remus have similar histories but really, that's all if you think about it. Stop acting like the two of you are the same person and his actions are yours. Have you ever looked at Hermione like—?"

"What?! Of course not!" Lupin snapped angrily. "She's a child!"

"Exactly. But not to him. They're the same age, mate. You're supposed to be pretending to be his dad now, yeah?"

Lupin nodded. "What should I do?"

Sirius shrugged. "Go and give him a super awkward sex talk. Tell him that I'm a right git, and shagging birds for fun is bad or . . . some other . . . total bullshit that he likely won't believe anyway, because it's fucking nonsense. Maybe drive the fear of Merlin into him that if he ends up breaking Hermione's heart, he's going to have the lot of us, plus a whole mess of Weasleys, to deal with."

Remus groaned miserably, rubbing his hands down his face. "I have to have a sex talk with my teenage self. This is the weirdest thing ever."

"Says the werewolf to his friend who can turn into a dog and is, at this moment, planning on going back to his dead best friend's sister-in-law's house, so he can chew on his godson's uncle's brand new loafers. Face it, Moony, every day of our lives is mental."


	9. Chapter 9

**July 1st, 1996**

Remus was feeling the effects of the approaching moon in full. On edge and shaking, he tried anything and everything to keep himself distracted—to keep himself from scratching his skin raw and crawling the walls as the claustrophobia began to creep in on him minute by minute. The wolf inside was desperate to get out of the house. To run, to hunt, to . . . His gaze lingered on Hermione as she knelt in front of her trunk, refolding a few of her blouses to fit them in properly.

"You're really leaving tomorrow?" He swallowed hard, trying to wet his parched throat. In an attempt to keep his hands distracted, he reached into her trunk and removed a pair of balled up socks, untangling them and turning them right side out before folding them properly and placing them back inside.

Hermione looked up at him amused, watching as he performed the oddest of tasks for a sixteen-year-old boy. Once he was done and had his hands tucked back under his folded arms, she frowned and returned her attention to packing her things. "Yes. I miss my parents, but I really don't _want_ to leave."

Remus reached for a stack of books and brought them to her, relishing the shiver that went up his spine when their fingers brushed during the exchange. She looked down at her trunk, moved a few things to the side in order to fit the books, and Remus painfully turned his head away when he saw several pairs of folded up knickers and what looked to be the strap of a bra. Fuck, this was going to kill him.

"I wanted to put it off for another couple of days," Hermione said, oblivious to his current condition, "but they're already upset that I couldn't come straight home, and . . . Are you going to be all right?"

She looked up at him with worried eyes, not brown like they appeared at first glance, but the colour of rich tea, aged cognac, with hints of red so deep they looked like the colour of leaves in autumn falling from the trees in . . . "What?" Remus asked, blinking several times.

Hermione frowned. "I said, are you going to be all right?"

He offered her a sad smile. "It's not my first full moon."

"No," she said looking down, wringing her hands together, cracking her knuckles—a stress induced habit, he figured. "I worry. I've seen . . . There was an incident during third year."

Remus's eyes widened in understanding of her nervous ramblings. "You watched him transform?" he asked, positively horrified that she had seen it, seen him—or, well, not _him_ but . . . she had seen the wolf.

Hermione nodded. "It looked . . . I know it was painful, and—"

"Grotesque."

Her brows furrowed as though she were shocked by his words and was preparing herself for a confrontation, her hands fisted at her sides instead of fidgeting as she had been moments earlier. "What? No. I wasn't . . . I mean I was scared because I knew what he was capable of, and he hadn't taken his potion that night so—"

"This was the night you met Sirius? The night Wormtail escaped?"

"Yes."

He glared down at the ground, angry that details of that story had been left out. He did not think that Lupin and Sirius had done so on purpose. Surely, there were more important things for him to know at the time, like Sirius having escaped Azkaban, and Peter being a traitor, and dementors, and Patronuses, and . . . But he _was_ angry that he had not been told. His self-hatred reaching a tipping point, he looked away from her, embarrassed and ashamed. "I didn't know you saw. He didn't . . . You weren't hurt, were you?"

"No, no," she quickly replied, reaching out and touching him in a reassuring way. She rested her hand on his forearm, even when he flinched, and holding on as though she was expecting him to try and run away. "Not at all. There was an issue with a Time-Turner, and Padfoot distracted him for a while, and Buckbeak . . . Oh, that's umm—"

"Sirius's pet hippogriff."

"He helped." She touched her face in the spot where Lupin had a scar, newer than some of the others.

Remus nodded in understanding. Lupin had to have been stopped by a hippogriff. Brilliant. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and sighed. "Maybe you should leave tonight."

Hermione frowned, looking hurt more than offended. "What? No. I'm not . . . I'll leave tomorrow when I know that . . . When I can say goodbye to you," she said in a near whisper. "In the morning."

It made him think of the full moon, rising in just a few hours. His muscles would tear, and his bones would break and heal themselves together in a different shape, and he would be flooded with the need to run and escape, bloodlust clouding over absolutely everything else until he completely blacked out, only to wake up in agony as his body forced itself back together again. To think that she would be near for _any_ of it . . . "You shouldn't worry about me. I'm dangerous. It's dangerous for you to be here."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "No more dangerous than anyone else. It's safe here. I'm not worried about the wolf. You _or_ Professor Lupin," she clarified, and Remus's eyes widened, almost having forgotten that he would not be the only wolf changing there that night. He felt a strange stir of protectiveness inside of him, and he wanted her out of the house that much more. Before he had a chance to even voice his concerns, she argued them. "Sirius will be with you, and I trust him. When you wake up, if there's anything you need I'll be here, and—"

"I don't need you to play mediwitch, Hermione," he snapped at her, not in control of his temper. "It's not Dragon Pox. I turn into a monster."

"Don't you dare!" she yelled—actually yelled—at him.

His mouth fell open. She had been nice enough since meeting her, and he was shocked that they had become friends as fast as they had. Her knowing his secret and not screaming in absolute horror helped, he was certain. But to know a bloke for two weeks and then _yell_ at him, well, Lily was like that— _had been_ like that.

"Excuse me?" he asked, still shocked by the lingering defiance in her eyes.

She planted her hands on her hips, tilting her chin up. Considering she was a good five inches shorter than he was, she almost looked cute if not for the fire blazing in her gaze. He was smart enough to take a glance and note that her wand was sitting on the bedside table, out of her grasp.

"I will not have you speak that way, Remus Lupin. And so what if I play mediwitch? Haven't you done the same for me for the past two weeks?"

He scoffed. "That's different. I-I wanted . . ." She rose a challenging brow at him. "You shouldn't have b-been . . . You deserved—"

"Well, so do _you_." She slammed the lid of her trunk closed. Spinning back around, she stepped closer to him and hissed, "Now, are you going to cause a fuss or do I have to keep yelling?"

Remus stared as colour spread up her neck, his gaze lingering on her pulse point for a split second, hands hovering just above her arms, wanting to touch, wanting to grab. The need was compelling. "Your cheeks get pink when you get angry," he said in a low, husky tone.

Her lips parted, and the colour on her face increased to a deeper red as she brought a hand up to touch her cheeks. "Oh? I . . . Well, that's beside the point," she insisted, clearing her throat. "Will you let me help?"

He licked his lips and stepped into her personal space, his eyes slowly shifting from green to gold. "What do you want to do to help?" Lifting a hand, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear and listening intently to the way her heart beat harder and faster at his touch. The sound began pounding inside of his head, muffling out everything else, when the tip of his fingers brushed her neck.

"Umm . . . I d-don't know." She gazed up into his eyes, breath momentarily caught in her throat. "Afterward I can perhaps bring you potions or heal . . ." She swallowed hard when he leant down, brushing his nose against her hairline, breathing her in. "Oh . . . I can heal any injuries you might h-have . . . Maybe . . . fix you something to eat."

His chest rumbled pleasurably. "Yeah? And what about _before_ the full moon?"

She inhaled sharply, her pupils dilating. "Is there . . . Is there something I can do to help you?"

"Hello, Hermione!" Lupin greeted loudly from the doorway, causing the witch to yelp and jump away from Remus as though she had been burned. The young wolf growled under his breath, narrowing his gold eyes at his older counterpart. "Mind if I have a little chat with the pup here?" Lupin asked with a smirk, and Remus's growl grew louder at the insult. "Just a quick word, I promise I'll return him in a short while."

"Of course, Professor." Hermione fidgeted with her blouse as though it had come untucked. She moved away from Remus, avoiding his gaze when he turned it back on her. "Is umm . . . I was offering Remus to see if . . . if there's anything I can do to help."

"We're fine, Hermione, thank you," Lupin said. "You are, as always, too kind."

She smiled awkwardly, her cheeks still red. "It's nothing, really. I'll be in the library when you're done, Remus."

He nodded, trying to get a hold of the inner wolf. "I'll meet you there," he told her, eyes closing as she walked past him, throwing rose oil and oranges in her wake that actually had him unconsciously following after her, only to be stopped when Lupin put a firm hand on his chest. He blinked at the obstacle in his way and looked up. "What the hell?"

"Ease off," Lupin said firmly. "We need to have a chat. Sit."

Remus growled again. "Do I look like Sirius to you? I don't follow commands."

"Sit!" Lupin snapped, shutting the bedroom door behind him, his own eyes shifting to gold much faster than Remus's had. A part of the younger wolf wanted to fight back, but he slowly backed away, head lowered, moving until the back of his legs hit Hermione's closed trunk and he sat down.

"Now, I need to know some things," Lupin said, calming down as he transfigured a wooden hanger into a chair, placing it in front of Remus before sitting down. "Things seem to vary in small ways between our pasts. So far, just small things about other people. James's glasses, Sirius's hands, Peter's bed. I need to know a few . . . personal details."

"Like what?" Remus suspiciously asked.

Lupin raised a brow. "Florence Fortescue?" He chuckled slightly when Remus recoiled in humiliation at the memory. "Ah, just as I thought. And did Sirius have _that_ talk with you? Offer suggestions on how to spend excess energy prior to the full moon?"

Remus's eyes widened as he recalled a conversation with his best friend after Easter hols. Sirius took off his shirt at every opportunity to show off newly defined muscles in his stomach, claiming that all the exercise he would ever need was between a girl's thighs, and waxing poetic about how helpful it would be for Remus to blow off steam in a similar fashion to maybe make the full moon a bit more tolerable. "Are you . . . Merlin, you're trying to give me the talk, aren't you?"

Lupin shrugged. "Mum and Dad didn't give _me_ one—"

Remus groaned, putting his face in his hands. "This is mortifying."

"I gather they skipped you as well," Lupin went on. "Which means that absolutely everything you learned about sex, you learned from Peter's copies of _Play Wizard_ and Sirius's sordid tales—all of which, I assure you, were highly exaggerated."

"Yeah, I figured that much out behind the greenhouses with Florence, thanks very much," Remus said bitterly. Sirius had told him many great tales of early morning broom closet rendezvous and late night sex behind the broom shed out by the Quidditch Pitch. Every story had Sirius in the role of a lothario who excelled at bringing a witch to her knees with pleasure, and then taking his own from her while she was down there.

Remus's experience with Florence Fortescue was less than stellar, and Mary MacDonald had done him a favour by spreading rumours of his prowess after just a little snogging. As far as he knew, Florence had not told a soul about their humiliating encounter and the week of his apologies that followed it. He, himself, had only told his three friends while they tried to talk him down from a panic attack after he had locked himself in a shower stall and refused to return to classes the following morning.

"Don't be embarrassed," Lupin said with a smile. "It was my first time too. I remember how awful it was."

"What was the second time?" Remus asked curiously. "Any better?"

"Mary MacDonald," Lupin answered, and Remus's eyes widened in shock. "And then Callista Hitchins, Dorcas Meadowes, Sarah Fenwick, Emmaline Vance, and—"

" _All_ of those girls?" Remus blanched, nearly shaking at the thought. " _Five_ witches before Tonks?"

Lupin shook his head, looking regretful. "Those five were during the first six months of sixth year."

"What?!"

"Then there was Hestia Jones, two Muggle girls over Easter break, and Marlene McKinnon."

Remus looked around the room, trying to focus on anything but the man in front of him. How could he do such a thing? Remus would never. _Would_ he? "Marlene? But Sirius was in love with her for half of fifth year!"

"Yes, and they dated _all_ of seventh after I slept with her prior to a full moon and broke her heart. To get back at me, she slept with Sirius. She and I eventually patched up and became good friends. Do you want to hear about my _seventh_ year?"

"No," Remus said, shaking his head and leaning forward, gripping his hair in frustration as he tried very hard to stare at the floor as shame and humiliation filled him up inside, only to be replaced very quickly by jealousy, bitterness, and eventually anger and disgust. "How could you? You put them all in danger."

"Not in the way you think. It was rotten, what I did. Some girls were perfectly aware of my newfound reputation and weren't in the slightest bit offended when I pointed out I had no desire for a proper relationship, but there were some who thought they could change my mind and were quite upset when they found that wasn't the case. I apologised profusely, believe me. But I was young and stupid."

Remus narrowed his eyes. "Which means you're calling _me_ young and stupid."

"Hopefully, you're a bit smarter than I remember," Lupin said with a small smile. "Hopefully, you'll be able to learn from my mistakes and realise that you can have more than just, well, expending energy before the full moon. Not that there's anything wrong, so long as all parties are aware and consensual and—"

"Stop talking," Remus pleaded. Suddenly, understanding hit him. "You think I'm going to do that to Hermione. You think I'm gonna . . . And then I'll just . . ."

Lupin sighed, placing a hand on Remus's shoulder. "I know how your brain works. Sirius was right, sex alleviates _a lot_ of the pre-moon symptoms. Aggression is lowered, obviously, the sex drive drops a bit with the expelled energy, certain irritation triggers are eased, as well as some of the aches because of the exercise. It all makes perfect sense; it seems mutually beneficial, and it's normal for teenagers to . . . So, you go for it, and then you wake up morning after the full moon, hating yourself because of what you are. You go through all the many ways you're not good enough for a witch to sleep with, let alone actually date or maybe even love. And what's the point? Because it's not like you can have a long-term relationship anyway because you'd be keeping a secret from them."

Remus frowned. "But Hermione knows."

"But Hermione knows," Lupin echoed in understanding and sympathy. "And you _still_ think you're a monster."

"Don't _you_?"

Lupin tensed and then frowned, scratching at the grey hair on his temples. "I'm getting better at trying to see myself how other people see me. Sirius and Tonks help. She kind of doesn't give me much choice," he said with a chuckle. "Yells about it quite a bit."

"What if people find out about the two of you?"

"Then they find out," Lupin said as though it were that simple. "I'm sure I'll have a bad moment or two or three, and I'll likely try to back out and let her have a real life. Then she'll do the same thing she always does and reel me back in. It's all right. It took me a long time to figure it out and, Merlin, I'm still learning. But we— _you—_ deserve love. So don't just try to shag out the full moon and then break hearts afterward because, inside your head, you think you're sparing them future hurt. It's hurt, no matter when it happens. And if you do that to _Hermione_. . . you'll lose _a lot_ of friends that you need right now. Not just her."

Remus swallowed thinking of Harry and Ron and maybe even Neville. Definitely Ginny, and perhaps Luna. He had not had a chance to spend too much time with the others, especially since they did not know his secret the same way that Harry, Hermione, and Ron did, but already it felt like a stab to the chest to lose friends before even properly making them. The thought of hurting Hermione, though . . . That ache was much deeper, and Remus suddenly felt incredibly guilty for letting the wolf gain control of him minutes earlier.

"I wouldn't do that to her," he said quietly, lowering his eyes to the ground.

"No?" Lupin asked. "What did I walk in on earlier?"

"That was . . . I lost control for a minute. He . . . the wolf . . . he likes her."

Lupin raised a brow, surprised by the statement. "He _likes_ her?"

"She smells nice," Remus said quietly. "She _is_ nice. She calms me. I've never . . . _we've_ never had anyone other than Sirius and James and . . . there was Lily, but—"

"But you knew she belonged with James," Lupin said knowingly.

Remus cleared his throat, the still-fresh grief over the death of his friends rising back to the surface. "Yeah."

Lupin moved from the chair to sit beside Remus on the edge of Hermione's trunk. He smiled sadly, remembering being that young and innocent and worried about everything and everyone. "Hermione is . . . special. Those boys, Harry and Ron, they'll protect her at any cost just as she would for them. Just as she'll do for you."

"I don't want to . . . I-I mean . . ."

"Don't hurt her."

"I won't. Is she . . .? I know Harry said that she was just his friend, but—"

Lupin smirked. "You should maybe talk to _them_ about it."

Remus nodded slowly. When Lupin stood to leave, he cleared his throat again to get the man's attention. "You're sure?" he asked, hoping that he would not need to clarify.

Lupin smiled, a slight twinkle in his eye as he thought of Tonks. "It's fine. Just be careful. With _her_ heart _and_ yours."

Remus looked down at his hands and sighed. "I will."

Lupin chuckled softly as he made to leave, stopping quickly and ducking his head back inside the doorway. "Do you know Contraceptive Charms? I can't remember if I learned those in fifth year or sixth."

Remus glanced up, eyes wide and face red. "Get. Out."

* * *

Remus found Hermione in the library as she had said she would be, smiling at the sight of her buried in a book, rubbing her nose repeatedly, likely from all the dust. She scrunched up her face multiple times, awaiting a sneeze that never came, and Remus could not help but chuckle at her.

She looked up and grinned at him, patting the sofa by her side. He came to her without hesitation, sitting down and relishing the small bit of warmth that came when their knees and shoulders touched as he leant over to look at what she was reading.

A few hours later, Sirius stepped into the library, happy to be as far away from Petunia Dursley and her dry meatloaf as humanly possible. While he felt terrible for being forced to leave Harry behind for the night, he was glad to be home, feeling useful as he prepared for the full moon ahead with two werewolves. He smiled at the sight in front of him: a sweet little witch with her feet curled against the arm of a sofa, her head leaning on Remus's shoulder. Both teenagers were asleep with a large book open between them.

Sirius stepped closer to the pair and softly cleared his throat, smiling when Remus slowly blinked his eyes open. "Hey, Mini-Moony. It's time to go down," he whispered, patting the boy on the shoulder and pulling the book from him so that he could easily pry himself away from Hermione.

Remus nodded to his friend and watched as he left the room, a silent promise to follow shortly behind. "Hermione?" he whispered, gently pulling away from her, cradling her head and shoulders against his arm as he shifted her weight onto the cushions behind them.

"Hmm?"

He frowned slightly, looking at her peaceful expression. "Keep sleeping. It's all right." He felt the anxiety building and building in his chest, breathing in deep in the hopes that he could carry her scent down to the basement with him. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, it would help. "Just . . . don't go away . . . please. Not until I can say goodbye in the morning, all right?"

Hermione, half-asleep mumbled, "Goodnight, Remus."

He swallowed down his growing fear. "I'll . . . I'll try. Don't worry about me. Sleep well." At the very last minute, he leant forward and kissed her forehead.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Hermione's scent clung to him, and Remus was fighting off the desperate urge to run back up the stairs, grab her pillow or blanket, and bring it back down to curl up against for the remainder of the night. His hands were shaking, and his eyes were shut tight, trying his best not to cry. It was not his first moon, no, but that only made it worse because he knew what was fast approaching.

"Wards set?" Lupin asked, looking at Sirius.

"We're locked in. Keyed to my magical signature too so only I can unlock it."

Remus opened his eyes to see Lupin give Sirius a grateful look before removing his shirt, revealing the lattice map of scars across his broad shoulders, back, and chest. Remus gasped at the sight, his green eyes already glowing gold as the moon began its ascent into the sky. Remus removed his own shirt, not taking his eyes off of Lupin's frame. The pair shared an identical crescent scar over their left shoulder, the legacy of Greyback, but other than a handful of deep self-inflicted scars across their chest and stomach from the early years of living with lycanthropy, nothing looked the same.

Remus practically felt clean and unblemished by comparison to the older wolf who had long deep gouges along his back, obvious bite marks from other wolves, thick self-inflicted scratch marks up and down his ribs, and more bite wounds down the man's thighs that were bared when he removed his trousers, folding them and sticking them on a shelf that hung suspended from the ceiling.

He had said "Over my dead body," when Remus had offered to tag along with the werewolf packs, desperate to help. Now, Remus understood. Now, he was glad he had been spared, but terrified for what the older wolf may have to endure until this war ended.

"You all right there?" Sirius asked.

Remus jumped, his eyes blurred with tears as the deep ache spread over his entire body like a pulsing wave of boiling water, scrubbing his skin raw. He shook his head. He was not all right. "I hate this," he confessed, looking at the door. "Are you sure it's safe? She's just upstairs."

Lupin nodded, his jaw tight, obviously fighting off the growing pain as well. "So is Tonks. They're safe. I promise. Ah!" His knees buckled, a loud popping sound echoed in the room that Remus knew to be the hip joints repositioning themselves.

Suddenly, the Wolfsbane Potion seemed like a double-edged sword. He would be able to keep his mind and his memories but now, Remus was not so sure he _wanted_ to remember. He wanted to forget it all. Every last second of it. Just then, he felt a tear near his ribs, and he cried out in pain, grasping at his side instinctively. He tried to bury his head in his other arm to hide the fact that he was sobbing when he felt two hands press against his shoulders.

"Hey, mate, look at me." Remus glanced up into the concerned eyes of his best friend. Twelve years in Azkaban and here he was, helping them, ever loyal even if they did not deserve him. "Stay with me, all right? I've got you." Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus as his hips and shoulders popped out of their sockets and a fire lit up his spine, setting every nerve aflame.

"What are you doing? Ah!" Remus screamed, the sound of his own shouts being drowned out by Lupin, who was growling against the onslaught in the corner of the room, banging a balled up fist against the cement floor. "Shift already!"

"I've got a lot more practice at the timing than you think," Sirius replied. "I'm here with you, holding your hand until the last possible second."

"What about—?" Remus began, looking across the room as Lupin let out a howling scream of agony.

"He's good," Sirius said, his expression betraying the desire to want to be there for _both_ of them, but knowing that Remus needed him more. "I'm with _you_ right now. Just breathe through it."

Remus tried, taking in a deep breath, remembering that it had just been one month earlier that he was in the Shrieking Shack with a young Sirius, who held him close to his chest while James squeezed his hand and Peter stood nearby, tears in his eyes as he watched Remus transform, unable to do anything more to help. Just a month ago, and everything had changed.

Time had changed.

The _world_ had changed.

Remus let out one last scream of pain, tasting blood as his jaw clicked and snapped, and then he felt paws where Sirius's hands previously were.

He collapsed to the ground, vision no longer blurry but heightened like never before. He breathed in deep through his snout, shocked that the smell of Hermione, several floors up, still overwhelmed and calmed him. His body ached, but the pain was quickly receding, and he wanted to laugh because he had never been able to properly look out through his lupine eyes. Usually, the pain hit him hard, and he blacked out only to be blind to everything but the sense of fear and panic and blood lust.

But it was not there. It was . . . somewhere in the back of his mind, instincts lingering just under the surface of his skin, stronger than when he was in human form, but nothing like ever before. _He_ was in control. It was an elated feeling, a near joyous high.

He felt like running and jumping and playing . . .

Until he looked up at the much larger wolf growling down at him.


	10. Chapter 10

**July 2nd, 1996**

Hermione had woken an hour past moonrise with a sinking feeling in her gut. She had not been awake when Remus left the library to go down into the heavily-warded and silenced basement to wait out the moon with Professor Lupin and Sirius. She felt terrible that she had been asleep and had not said a proper goodbye.

It was not really goodbye, though, was it? _Goodnight?_ she thought to herself and then sighed, clutching the cup of hot chocolate in her hand as she sat on the top stair looking down at the basement door. She could not hear a thing and that worried her more than any noise would have.

Magicked silence was unnerving. It usually meant there needed to be something to hide, and her brain instantly clicked through the memory of her third year, watching Professor Lupin transform before her eyes. The transformation had been painful, that much was very obvious, though she did not realise it until later once the fear and adrenaline had abated. When the pity—no, not pity. Pity felt like a terrible thing to feel for someone. Compassion, perhaps? She wanted to feel compassion for him . . . for _them_ ; and she knew they were _suffering_ behind that silenced door.

So no, not _good_ night.

"How often does Harry get hurt playing Quidditch?" Tonks asked, sitting down beside Hermione, her wild purple hair was streaked with strands of pink and green as though she had been bored staring in a mirror and used her morphing as a way to pass the time.

Hermione looked up. "Almost every game. I hate it. I sit in the stands, and my stomach is in knots just waiting for something awful to happen. After his first game, when his broom was hexed . . . Then his arm was broken, and . . . It's awful."

Tonks nodded with a smile. "Can't stop him from playing it, though, can you?"

Hermione shook her head.

"All you can do is worry in silence and then do your best to make him feel better once he's been taken to the infirmary, yeah?" Hermione nodded slowly in understanding. "It's different, I know. They can't help being werewolves. There are a few benefits that come with lycanthropy." Tonks waggled her eyebrows, and Hermione blushed bright red and looked away. "But they are minimal compared to the nastiness they've got to deal with."

"How do you do it?" Hermione quietly asked. "How did . . . How did Sirius and Harry's father . . . They were with him every month for years."

"Love and friendship," Tonks said. "All that happy stuff Dumbledore's always going on about. Powerful magic, innit? Come on. Get some rest. Trust me from experience, Hermione. If you go and see him in the morning and dark circles are fully formed under your eyes from not sleeping, he's going to be sore over it."

Hermione nodded, reluctantly following Tonks away from the basement door. She finished her hot chocolate and went to bed. She contemplated, and not for the first time that evening, sending an owl to her parents to cancel her trip back home the following day.

* * *

She stood in front of the basement door early the next morning, waiting for it to open. She was not certain what she was expecting to happen, but when Sirius stepped through, yawning and stretching his arms overhead, looking like he was tired but otherwise uninjured, she felt relieved.

He smiled at her, not looking surprised to see her so early in the morning. "Room service?" he asked with a smirk. She raised an incredulous brow at him before removing a steaming mug of coffee from behind her back, holding it out to him. Sirius grinned and kissed the top of her head. "You're my favourite of Harry's friends."

Her eyes darted to the door, left propped open. "Is he . . .? I mean are they—?"

"They'll be fine, kitten," Sirius promised. "Do I smell bacon?"

"Tonks is fixing breakfast. Er . . . I should say Mrs Weasley came over to fix breakfast, and Tonks is trying to help. Mr Weasley was going to Apparate me home this morning, but I wanted to say goodbye to Remus."

Sirius put an arm around her shoulders. "Come have a chat with me while the ornery wolves wake themselves up, yeah?"

They walked in silence to the dining room where Sirius took a seat, but not before pulling open a few drawers in a nearby cabinet and snatching up a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill. He drained the rest of his coffee with a grateful noise in the back of his throat, and then pushed the mug aside as he scribbled down notes on the paper in front of him. "Now, if you want to keep the pet werewolf that followed you home from Hogwarts, there are some rules you've got to follow."

Hermione made an offended noise, narrowing her eyes at him. "Remus is not—"

"Rule number two: you need a sense of humour," he interrupted her, looking up from his notes and smirking as she bristled. "He's serious enough on his own. He spends about eighty percent of his life feeling sorry for himself and then uses another ten percent being angry _about_ feeling sorry for himself."

"What's the last ten percent?"

Sirius smirked. "The _fun_ stuff. Which you need to bring out as often as possible. He needs to be reminded that he's a human without forgetting he's a wolf. Remus has a problem doing both. He either lingers and dwells on the approaching full moon, even if it's a week away, or he pretends it's not even there. He's _both_. Remind him of it often. Keep it light. Tease him about the lycanthropy, because then it's not some sad thing where he thinks that you think he's—"

"A monster?"

"Less of a man," Sirius corrected. "Rule number three: keep him fed. He's got a thing for sweets, which you already knew, but protein will help repair his muscles after the moon, and it keeps him from getting sick before it. He'll fight you on it sometimes, saying he's too tired to eat, but shove it down his throat if you have to."

Hermione nodded, a part of her wanting to ask for a piece of parchment for herself so that she could take notes, but she figured that if Remus ever found them, he would not be too pleased. He was not a homework assignment. He was . . . He was her friend. "Are you going to tell Harry and Ron this as well?"

Sirius shook his head. "Harry's got enough on his mind, and Ron . . . The boy's got a good heart, but he's not too big on tact," he said with a chuckle. "You, on the other hand, I can trust you to take care of him."

Pride blossom in her chest. "Why me?"

"Because you started taking care of Remus Lupin when you were only thirteen-years-old," Sirius pointed out with a grateful tone. "You did so well with my Remus, now you get your very own. Everything I'm telling you now is basically just the little tips to make life easier. You've already accomplished the biggest and most important thing. You kept his secret. You earned his trust."

Hermione frowned. "Not really," she admitted. "I told Harry and Ron that Professor Lupin was a werewolf in the Shrieking Shack that night."

Sirius laughed. "That was semantics. It didn't even bother him at that point. He was more impressed that you'd figured it out on your own and didn't go running to Dumbledore the second you found out. That's a big deal. Also, you're not afraid of him when he's human."

She nodded, trying to take a glance at the notes he was still scribbling. "There's nothing to be afraid of when he's . . . What are you writing?"

"Rule number four," he said, ignoring her question. "Learn how to differentiate between Remus and the wolf."

"Golden eyes," she said immediately, and Sirius smiled at her. "He . . . His voice changes an octave as well when he . . . when the symptoms . . ." She stopped talking when she felt her face heating up.

"He'll get aggressive as well," Sirius cautioned her. "But not dangerous. Not to you. Not to his friends. The senses go a bit overboard, so he can't handle spicy food, loud noises, or strong smells. Perfume is a really bad one. You can tell when he doesn't like a bird," he said with a laugh, clearly taking a momentary trip down memory lane. His focus on his notes left him unable to see the annoyed look on her face. "He'll insist on going to Quidditch games, even if it's the day before or after the full moon when he's really suffering. Ask Madam Pomfrey to teach you some spells to decrease noise levels. Light is a big problem too, but he refuses to wear sunglasses. Says they make him look stupid."

Hermione actually chuckled. "Thank you for telling me all of this. I want him to have a good start when we all go back to Hogwarts. I think you not being there will be hard on him."

Sirius smiled sadly, setting the quill down and folding the parchment in half. "He'll get through it. He's a survivor."

"What's rule number one?" she asked curiously.

Sirius's sad smile turned into a full blown grin that made her very nervous. He took the folded parchment and passed it across the table to her. She hesitated before opening it, glancing down and not even trying to prevent her eyes from widening and her jaw from dropping open at the words written down in detailed lettering. She looked back up at Sirius in shock.

"Rule number one: don't get caught."

* * *

Remus slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the nearly identical pair staring down at him. Lupin, looking worse for wear, had a hand on his shoulder, very softly shaking him awake. "C'mon. Try and get up. You should be resting upstairs in a comfortable bed for the rest of the day."

His vision focused a bit, and he tried to sit up only to wince as a familiar dull ache throbbed throughout his body. He blinked twice, looking at the man in front of him, already dressed in trousers, though his shirt was left off. Thick bruises were already colouring his shoulder and down the front of his chest. Remus swallowed as the memories came back, clearer than ever.

" _I_ did that?"

Lupin nodded, looking down at one of the bruises. "I've already healed yours as best as I could," he said, a guilty look on his face as he handed over a Pain Relief Potion. "We knew the wolves would have some issues, but . . . I am very sorry I wasn't able to control the instinct."

Remus fully sat up, a part of him thinking to cover himself for modesty sake, only to remember that the only other person in the room was, technically, himself. He took the potion and drank it down swiftly, nodding his head in thanks to the man, before placing the empty phial in his outstretched hand. Remus rubbed at the sore muscles of his shoulder, only to feel freshly healed puncture marks on the skin, just above the decade old scar that Greyback left behind.

"You bit me," Remus stated, watching as Lupin's frown deepened. "It's fine."

"It's not. But . . . it's done."

"Stupid wolves," he mumbled under his breath.

The transformation, as usual, had been horrific and painful and just plain devastating. But when the moon had fully risen, leaving behind two wolves in the basement of Grimmauld Place, Remus had been astonished at how in control he felt over his own body.

The wolf instincts were there as always, a bit more forceful than they were if he had been in human form, and he was not certain that he could fully control himself not to attack a human if they were in his sights. He, at least, felt that he had the choice to move his own legs instead of being pulled around like a passenger in his own body, barely aware of what was happening around him.

When the older wolf had towered above him, Moony coming face-to-face—snout-to-snout—with his own younger counterpart, the two confused werewolves spent less than a full thirty seconds trying to smell one another out before falling back on natural instincts and establishing a proper hierarchy. Padfoot had whimpered in the corner of the room, watching as the older and larger wolf briefly fought the younger, earning barely a head-butt to the chest before sinking his teeth into the neck of the pup, forcing him to submit.

Once that was done and over with, the older wolf paced around the basement for a while, occasionally entertaining the large black dog with a game of chase, before settling into a comfortable place, curled up in the corner.

The younger wolf, however, used this new opportunity of awareness to memorise every moment, every sound and sight and . . . _Rose oil and oranges_. He had crouched near the basement door, feeling the magic wards around it that prevented him from getting out or anyone else getting in. There had been a barrier of sound put in place as well, blocking out all noise from the outside world. Different from the lazily cast Silencing Charms that were supposed to prevent Remus from overhearing Lupin and Tonks, _this_ charm was heavy and thick, and not even his wolf hearing could break through it.

His sense of smell, though . . . He could _smell_ her.

The wolf breathed deep. His short snout pressed against the bottom of the door, as close as he could get, and inhaled, letting the scent warm him the way it had those first few nights here in this world and time. If he had been able to, he would have smiled, feeling more human than ever, even in wolf form. He had not realised that he had fallen asleep on the stairs, just in front of the basement door, until a wave of pain wracked his body hours later, the rising sun forcing the wolf back beneath his skin for another month. Waking up on the other side of the room afterward indicated that either Sirius or Lupin had levitated him while he slept.

"It doesn't hurt," Remus said, looking at the older wolf— _wizard_ —feeling a strange something that he had never felt before: sympathy for another werewolf; and for one that, by all definitions, had attacked him last night. "You're not Greyback."

Lupin swallowed, his eyes betraying the shock he tried to hide, knowing that Remus understood the exact type of guilt he was feeling.

Remus offered him a smile. "Remember when we did the same thing and attacked Pads that first moon when they all changed? I felt like shit for a week, and all he did was rub it in."

Lupin smirked. "He made me carry his books to every class until Lily asked him if he and I were dating."

They shared a laugh, and Remus sighed, feeling good for the first time in a long while after a full moon. "Thank you for the Wolfsbane."

Lupin sighed heavily. "I don't brew potions. You should know that better than anyone."

Remus frowned in understanding. "Would it do me any good to thank Snape?"

"Not unless you call him _Professor_ Snape and then listen to how very much you're putting him out for forcing him to sacrifice his time and efforts just to brew your potion." Lupin gently clapped his uninjured shoulder. "Get dressed and come upstairs. I can already smell—"

"Bacon," Remus finished with a smile.

He dressed as quickly as he could without hurting himself too much, shocked that he was only sore instead of properly injured. Even with Padfoot, Wormtail, and Prongs around, Remus often ended up wounded somehow, either with scratches all over his body from thrashing, or bruises and welts from throwing himself against the walls of the Shrieking Shack, desperate to get out where he could hunt. The ache in his muscles now was almost pleasant by comparison, and he was nearly smiling as he walked up the stairs and out of the basement, not paying much attention when he almost ran into . . .

"Hermione?" he mumbled, his throat still a bit raw.

She stood there, lips parted, and only then did Remus realise he had left his shirt unbuttoned. He flushed with embarrassment, worried that she was staring at his scars. When he winced, closing the fabric around himself, he chanced a look and caught the deep colour in her cheeks. Though some senses were lowered since the moon had set, he could still hear the slight change in her heartbeat.

"Umm . . ." He cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. "You weren't . . . I mean, I didn't . . . Were you waiting for me?" he asked nervously, his arms crossed over his chest like a wall between them. Whether he was trying to keep himself in or her out, he was not entirely certain.

She shyly smiled at him, her eyes raking over his body. He could tell she was looking for injuries, and he tensed automatically under her appraisal. After a long moment of awkward silence, she forced a genuine smile and then teasingly asked, "Wild night?"

He let out a sharp laugh, caught off guard by the comment, and ran a hand through his hair. "Something like that," he muttered and looked down at the mug in her hands.

"Oh, I brought this for you," she said, handing out the steaming cup of hot chocolate.

He took it gratefully smiling at her. "Let me guess, it's my favourite?" he asked, teasing her a bit and reminding her of the incident with the chocolate biscuits.

Hermione blushed prettily but smiled when she watched him take a sip, making a noise of contentment when swallowing. "I wouldn't know. Do I look like the kind of girl who waits for her professor to wake up in the morning, offering him hot chocolate?"

Remus grinned. "No. Does that mean you were waiting for _me_ to wake up this morning?"

She shrugged. "I wake up early. All my things are packed, and I didn't have much else to do. Mrs Weasley came over and made breakfast. There's a plate all fixed up for you. Full English. I put a Stasis Charm on it to keep it warm," she said as they walked down the hall toward the kitchen.

His grin widened as they walked down the hall toward the kitchen. "Using magic outside of Hogwarts, Miss Granger? Isn't that against the rules?"

She rolled her eyes. "If you like cold eggs, by all means, report me," she replied with a chuckle and then frowned. "I . . . I can't stay. Mr Weasley's already waiting for me outside. Chatting up the Muggle neighbours. They probably think he's a tourist. I wanted to wait to . . . I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye."

Remus frowned. "You'll be back soon, though, yeah?"

Hermione nodded. "My parents have plans this summer. Work things and trips, and . . . I'll be back for Harry's birthday." At Remus's confused look she clarified, "The thirty-first of this month. Will you owl me? I don't have one of my own, so I have to wait to reply to letters sent to me, and . . . Well, you and I have hardly even begun properly discussing previous coursework and upcoming classes."

He smiled. "I'll owl you later this evening. Once I wake up again," he said, his red eyes betraying how exhausted he genuinely was.

"Rest up."

Remus tensed once more, instinctively, when she reached for him. The morning after the moon he did not yet quite feel entirely human, and she knew, she knew what he was, what he had been not hours earlier. _A monster_. Dangerous. Horrible, and . . . But she was suddenly hugging him, gently at first and then tight. The same way she had hugged Harry and Ron goodbye when they left Grimmauld Place earlier that week. Not wanting to pass up the opportunity for some actual affection from someone other than Sirius or an overbearing Molly Weasley, Remus set his mug of hot chocolate down on a nearby table and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tightly against him, relishing the warmth of her body pressed against his and the sweet smell of rose oil and oranges.

"Take care of yourself, Remus."

He swallowed, hesitant to let her go, but he did. "Bye, Hermione."

He took the large breakfast plate upstairs to his room and ate alone before falling back asleep and letting the day disappear as he closed his eyes and collapsed into the pillow beneath his head.

When he woke again, it was already dark out. He left the room only once to use the loo, returning to find a plate of dinner on his bedside table and a note from Tonks, who had likely returned to Lupin's bed once she had brought him some food. Sirius had already returned to Little Whinging and Harry's side, and never—not since he had arrived—had Grimmauld Place been so quiet.


	11. Chapter 11

**July 13th, 1996**

Remus woke from a pleasant dream to the sound of fluttering. Blinking his eyes open slowly, he winced at the light streaming in through the parted curtains, and glanced up to see an owl perched on his bedside table. He frowned at the sight and then looked at the open window, sighing as he remembered why he had slept in.

He and Hermione had been owling one another for nearly two weeks since the morning after the full moon when she had hugged him tightly and then left with Arthur Weasley, returning to her parents.

The first few letters had come twice a day, but it seemed that Hermione was struggling with her family who were asking more and more questions about Hogwarts and her friends and the Wizarding world in general. Unable to—or really, not _wanting_ to for the safety of her family—Hermione struggled to keep her secrets, knowing that she was an abysmal liar, especially to the people who knew her so well. Or at least _thought_ they knew her.

Remus felt the struggle himself. He had grown up with a Muggle mother, who did not always understand and was more often than not afraid of most things in the magical world—Greyback turning her four-year-old son into a werewolf certainly did not help. Now he was back to keeping secrets, just like Hermione, with only a handful of people knowing the truth about him.

It sucked.

And he said so in his letters, shortly after a tear-stained folded piece of parchment arrived the night before, Hermione needing to vent to someone she felt would understand. He _did_.

_Harry has too much on his plate_ , she had claimed in another letter after Remus replied to the first. Ron and Ginny were apparently too busy around the Burrow to properly give any sort of reply. Plus, she did not want either of the Weasley parents knowing her plight. It was embarrassing enough, she had said, feeling like an outsider in the magical world. Lovely, understanding people that the Weasleys were, they were also purebloods with little knowledge of Muggle life, and some things just didn't translate properly.

They had sent the owl back and forth until Remus had fallen asleep, waiting for a response from her. He said it was not necessary but knew that she would reply anyway. Sure enough, the house owl that belonged to Sirius had dropped a letter from Hermione off on the bed and then took off for its cage in the drawing room to rest its overworked wings. The window that had been left open for Sirius's owl had attracted the one currently glaring at Remus with impatience, barking and snapping its beak at him.

"All right, all right," he mumbled, removing the attached letters from the bird's leg. "I haven't got any treats. You went to the wrong window." Not for the first time, Remus wondered how the birds were able to find Grimmauld Place, despite the Fidelius Charm while no one else could. He shrugged off the thought, pushing it into the back of his brain alongside house-elf magic and other things that he did not know enough about and was too tired to properly contemplate.

The owl flew away immediately, and Remus looked down at his hands, examining the two envelopes: one addressed to him, and the other to Harry Potter. Both were hand written with the same colour of ink and sealed with a familiar stamp on the back—Hogwarts.

Remus walked down the stairs, adjusting the drawstring pyjama bottoms as he moved, still not entirely thrilled with the Resizing Charm that he had done on an old pair of Sirius's. A part of him wondered what exactly he was going to do for clothes when he was due to return to Hogwarts in just under two months.

Overhearing voices coming from the kitchen, Remus made his way through the door, smiling in greeting to Sirius and Harry who were sitting around the table beside Lupin and Tonks.

"Wotcher, Remus," she said with a bright smile, her fingers laced with Lupins, who was sipping on a cup of tea.

"Morning," Remus replied, noting that the witch had pink hair this morning, indicating her bright and cheerful mood, which almost made him cringe knowing that he had a feeling what kept her so bloody chipper. He looked to the two others. "When did you lot get in?"

"Late last night," Harry replied. "Dumbledore came to the Dursleys, and then Sirius and I went—"

"Save it for later," Sirius said. "Especially since Remus hasn't even confirmed who we are yet."

Remus raised a brow. "You're not serious?" Sirius grinned, and Remus rolled his eyes. "Don't even start with me, mate. I'm too tired to deal with your stupid sense of humour."

Sirius laughed. "Give the boy a cuppa, will you, Tonks? Cranky little git in the mornings."

"I was up late." Remus dropped the letters on the table. "Post came for you, Harry. I suspect they're our Hogwarts letters; bit early, though." He smiled gratefully when Tonks brought him a cup of tea, taking a moment to affectionately muss up his hair. "Can we open them, or were you . . . _genuine_ ," he said, choosing his words on purpose as he looked at Sirius, "about doing the whole security question thing?"

The Ministry of Magic had put out pamphlets offering security tips on how to deal with the paranoia that came from Voldemort's return. Keeping one's family safe with bits of information, most of which was utterly useless, especially since Grimmauld Place already had the protection of a Fidelius Charm.

"Fine, fine." Remus sighed, relenting to Sirius's request; the man was far too easily entertained this early in the morning. He tried to think of something good, grinning when the idea finally came to him. "Sirius, what was your nickname—"

"Really?" Sirius interrupted with a loud scoff, clearly offended. "Mini-Moony, how many people know I'm called Padfoot? Honestly, mate, I thought better of—"

"—in _fourth_ year?" Remus finished his question and raised a daring eyebrow. Across the table, Lupin broke out into laughter.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "You _swore_ that you would never bring that up again."

Remus shrugged, letting a devious smirk overtake his expression. "When? Cause if it was after fifth year, then you're looking at the wrong Remus . . . _mate_. Answer the question."

"No," Sirius said. "It's stupid. We're under a bloody Fidelius Charm. Of course I am who I say I am."

"What was your nickname, Sirius?" Harry asked, suddenly incredibly intrigued.

"If you don't tell him, I've got the whole next year to," Remus said. "Just Harry and I, bonding alone at Hogwarts, without you there to stop me from telling him _everything_ I know about you."

"I'm going to get you for this." Sirius pursed his lips, muttering, "Two Sickle Sirius."

Lupin snorted loudly and nearly choked on his coffee.

"Why'd they call you that?" Tonks eagerly asked.

When Sirius didn't reply, Remus chuckled. "After Christmas hols, fourth year, Sirius came back to Hogwarts wearing Muggle clothes. Leather trousers, to be exact. At least one size too small. When he bent over to pick up his book bag during Transfiguration, Prongs dropped two Sickles down the back of his trousers, which were so tight that Sirius couldn't get them out without taking them off, which he refused to do. Walked around all day long with the imprint of two coins stuck to his left arsecheek."

The table erupted into laughter, and even Sirius joined in, standing up and taking a bow for providing such rich entertainment. "I'll remember this," he said with a grin, threatening Remus.

After refilling his cup of tea, Remus opened the letter, expecting a list of supplies, only to stumble upon his O.W.L. results from twenty years earlier. "Dumbledore pulled up my old records," he said with a grin, noting the date. "Looks like I won't have to retake the exams. I got four Outstandings." He proudly looked up at Lupin, who obviously already knew the results but offered congratulations, regardless of the fact that they were as much _his_ achievements as they were Remus's. "No idea how I got an 'E' in Potions, though."

"Lily," both Sirius and Lupin said at the same time, earning a small smile from everyone at the table.

"How'd _you_ do, mate?" Sirius asked, snatching Harry's letter from him. "Well, look at that! Outstanding in Defence! That's my boy!" He ruffled Harry's already messy hair. "And don't you worry about History of Magic and Divination. Rubbish classes, the both of them."

Harry snorted. "Don't let Hermione hear you talk about History of Magic like that."

Remus looked up. "Not Divination?"

Harry just shook his head and laughed.

Remus let out a sigh of relief. "Well, at least I didn't get a high enough score in Potions to qualify for Snape's N.E.W.T. class," he said, remembering that Hermione had mentioned how worried she had been about her own O.W.L. in Potions, as Professor Snape accepted nothing below Outstanding.

Harry cleared his throat and looked at Sirius.

Remus frowned. "What?"

Harry just shook his head. "Dumbledore's gone ment—" he began to say but then sighed. "Snape's not teaching _Potions_ this year. That's what we were up to last night. Dumbledore showed up in Little Whinging to escort me and Sirius back home." Remus quickly caught the way Sirius smiled at Grimmauld Place being called _home_ by Harry. "But we went on a detour to meet someone."

"Slughorn," Sirius said. "Dumbledore offered him his old job back."

"Oh. So . . . I'll take Potions I guess," Remus said thoughtfully, already knowing that he would need to write Hermione and beg for her help in order to get by in the class now that he no longer had Lily to tutor him. "Wait . . . if Snape's not teaching Potions then—"

"Dumbledore's lost it!" Harry snapped. "He gave that greasy git the Defence position!" His jaw tightened in anger as he spoke. Sirius didn't react at all, clearly just as annoyed with the announcement. Tonks was rolling her eyes, and Lupin ignored the outburst entirely. "There's one good thing that'll come out of this," Harry went on. "Snape'll be gone by the end of the year."

Remus looked up. "What do you mean? The curse? I thought that was just an old superstition."

"It's real. No one's lasted more than a year." Harry winced, looking across the table at Lupin. "Er . . . sorry, Professor." Lupin merely smiled and waved him off, clearly not offended. Harry turned back to Remus. "Quirrell actually _died_ doing it," he said, but gave no details to the demise of his former teacher. "Personally, I'm going to keep my fingers crossed for another death."

"Harry," Lupin said, finally stepping in. "I know you have a long list of problems with Professor Snape, but he's a member of the Order, and Dumbledore trusts him. He's—"

"He's rotten, he hates me, and he _purposely_ didn't teach me Occlumency properly. And I don't care that he says he's on our side. I told him what Kreacher told me about Sirius being taken to the Department of Mysteries, and he just walked right out. Probably wanted it to be true. Thought it would be good fun for Voldemort to have a go at Sirius."

Sirius sighed. "All right. That's enough. I don't like the man any more than you do, Harry, I promise you. Just do what you can to keep your head low this year. Don't let him provoke you. You're right, the job's jinxed, so he'll be gone by the time you're starting your last year. No reason to get worked up over it," he said, patting Harry on the shoulder. Despite his advice, the expression on Sirius's face said that he was none too pleased about Snape's new appointment.

Harry nodded and sighed. "Fine. I'm going to go upstairs for a bit."

Remus stood. "I'll go with. I need to write Hermione."

As the boys left the kitchen, Sirius looked across the table at his best friend and smirked. "He's writing Hermione?"

Lupin chuckled. "We're nearly out of parchment and ink."

* * *

They went to the Burrow for dinner, stopping outside the door where a stern Molly Weasley asked each and every one of them a security question before letting them inside. She did, however, stop and wonder aloud whether or not Remus and Lupin should have separate questions.

Remus smiled once he stepped inside the crooked house. It was warm and cluttered but clean. The smells coming from the kitchen reminded him of home, of his parents, and their little cottage in Yorkshire. He struggled not to let the sadness overwhelm him—knowing that his parents weren't alive in this world and time—and, instead, allowed Molly to hug him extra long in greeting before she made comments about how skinny he was and how his clothes didn't fit right.

"Harry's just the same. Sirius, Remus," Molly said, looking at the two older Marauders and aiming a wooden cooking spoon at them as though it were a weapon. "You better take both of those boys and get them some proper clothes before school starts."

"We will, Molly," Lupin said.

Remus frowned. "You don't have to. I'm fine with . . ." he began to say but stopped, feeling his cheeks warm over in embarrassment.

"Nonsense," Lupin said. "You're, well, my _son_." The word was said with a stern look in his eyes, silently reminding Remus that not _everyone_ at the Burrow knew his secret, and that they needed to fall into these father and son roles as quickly and comfortably as possible. "Besides, with Umbridge being arrested, all of her old legislations are being rescinded and reconsidered. I might be able to get a job again until the werewolf laws go back before the Wizengamot."

"And _until_ he finds a job, I'm more than happy to waste my family's old blood purist money on two half-bloods. Delighted, in fact. I think I'll make a list of all the Muggle shit I need to buy as well," Sirius said with a grin, patting Remus and Harry on the shoulders, ignoring Molly when she gasped at his language. "Maybe even start up a Muggle-born scholarship fund," he added with a maddening grin.

"You boys go on upstairs," Molly said. "Be careful if you go into Fred and George's old room. I don't know what nonsense they've left behind. Packed up everything in just a few days. Moved into that little flat above that _shop_ of theirs."

"How's the shop doing?" Lupin asked.

Molly sighed. "I must say, I didn't approve at first, but they do seem to have a bit of a flair for business."

Remus followed Harry up the stairs, smiling at the family photos on the wall, noticing a large clock with individual pictures, all of which were pointing to an area labelled "Mortal Peril," which Remus frowned at as they walked by.

"All right, Harry, Remus?" Ron said with a grin as he met them on the landing. "You just get here?"

Remus nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Were the Muggles all right?" Ron asked Harry. "Did they treat you okay?"

Harry laughed. "Sirius dug up Petunia's garden and chewed all of Uncle Vernon's shoes. Then, just before we left, he transformed right in front of Dudley. I thought he was going to piss himself for sure. Best trip back ever, I swear on my life."

"Wicked," Ron said with a grin and walked up the stairs, leading them both to the very top bedroom which was plastered nearly wall to wall with Chudley Cannons paraphernalia.

Ron down on an unmade bed, reaching for a Quaffle that sat like a trophy or treasured stuffed animal on his bedside table. He tossed it back and forth in his hands, something Remus remembered James used to do for dexterity while lying in bed at night. "You get your O.W.L.s?"

"Got an Outstanding in Defence. Everything else is pretty much 'E's except an 'A' in Astronomy. Failed Divination and History, though," Harry said, and Ron scoffed with the same attitude that Sirius had done that morning. "Remus here got four 'O's."

"Well done, mate," Ron said. "I'm pretty much same as you, Harry, except Defence. Only got an 'E' there. We've done all right, haven't we? Mum was thrilled. Gave me extra bacon since I got more O.W.L.s than Fred and George. You heard from Hermione? She get hers?"

Remus winced. "Is she always so intense?"

Harry and Ron laughed.

"You're lucky you missed last year," Ron said. "She made us revision timetables. Colour-coded and everything, mate. She's mental when it comes to exams. How bad did she do? Couldn't have been that awful."

Harry chuckled, already knowing the answer, having learned from Remus early that afternoon when Hermione sent him a letter.

Remus scratched at the back of his neck and smiled, finding Hermione's worries over school endearing. "She got an 'E' in Defence."

Ron chortled. "Let me guess: the rest are all Outstanding?" Remus nodded. "And she's disappointed. Good old Hermione. Well, at least she'll only be in a few classes with us this year. And no more Potions!" he said excitedly. "No more Hermione yelling at us for preparing ingredients wrong, no more Neville getting screamed at, no more Seamus blowing up his cauldron. And best of all . . . no more Snape!"

Remus nervously looked down at the ground, and Harry actually hissed in frustration.

Ron frowned. "What happened?"

* * *

Ron, like Harry, had properly cussed his way through his anger over Snape's change of position. The three boys had switched the topic to Quidditch to try and take their minds off of school and Snape—whom Remus was properly nervous about reuniting with now—until Molly yelled up the stairs that dinner was ready, and everyone should come down and wash up.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs and following Ron and Harry into the dining room, Remus smiled when he was met with a familiar face. "Fleur. I forgot you'd be here."

Swallowing hard and fighting against his natural instinct to be drawn to the veela, he cleared his throat loudly as she approached him, remembering that, technically, they were supposed to be related due to his false backstory.

"Remus," she said brightly, kissing both of his cheeks. "If it isn't my favourite little cousin!"

The word _cousin_ , correct or not, was enough to calm the urge to gawk at the beautiful woman. He had grown up with Sirius and was no stranger to hearing about inter-family marriages. Actually _seeing_ Sirius's crazy parents had driven the anti-inbreeding point home.

"Your _cousin_?" Ginny asked, mouth open as she stared from her place at the table, eyes wide and gaping at Remus as though he had personally offended her by being related to the blonde.

"Er . . . yeah, my mum was a Delacour," Remus said, falling back quickly on the fake family story, knowing that he had only been allowed to tell the truth to Ron, Harry, Hermione, and select Order members—of which Ginny was none.

She frowned over Remus's use of past tense and muttered out an embarrassed apology, one which he forgave instantly with a small smile.

Fleur, meanwhile, had taken to greeting Harry with just as big of a grin. "Harry! It has been too long. You remember my sister, Gabrielle? She never stops talking about Harry Potter. She will be delighted to see you again."

"Oh . . . is she here too?" Harry croaked.

"No, no, silly boy," Fleur said with a tinkling laugh. "I mean next summer when Bill and I get married!" Behind her, Molly let out a loud huff and dropped a large bowl of potatoes on the table before storming back to the kitchen to grab more food. "I cannot wait to catch up with the both of you, but I have dinner plans with Bill. We shall speak later, _non_?"

Both Harry and Remus offered her small, awkward smiles before she stepped out the door and Disapparated away. The very second she was gone, Ginny snorted and leant across the table, whispering to Sirius and Lupin, "Mum hates her."

"I do not hate her!" Molly said in a cross whisper as though Fleur was still present and just around the corner, eavesdropping. "I just think they've hurried into this engagement, that's all!"

"They've known each other a year," Ron said, staring longingly at the closed door through which Fleur left.

"Well, that's not very long!" Molly snapped. "I know why it's happened, of course. It's all this uncertainty with You-Know-Who coming back. People think they might be dead tomorrow, so they're rushing all sorts of decisions they'd normally take time over. It was the same last time he was powerful, people eloping left, right, and centre—"

Ginny chuckled. "Including you and Dad."

"That's different," Molly insisted. "Your father and I were clearly made for one another. Love at first sight. What was the point in waiting?"

"James and Lily married right out of Hogwarts, too," Sirius said with a grin. "And they were definitely _not_ love at first sight."

Remus laughed. "Maybe for . . ." he started to say that Prongs had been in love with Lily since first year, but then caught Ginny's curious look as though she were already wondering how he knew about Harry's parents. He awkwardly turned his attention to Lupin. "Er . . . was it that way for you . . . _Dad_?"

Lupin looked up, eyes wide, and he sat in silence for a moment, realising that he hadn't come up with a proper backstory other than a name for Remus's fake mother. "Er . . ." he said, repeating Remus's mumblings. "I . . . I suppose. It was war. Very . . . very crazy times," he finished, filling his mouth with a large bite of potatoes.

"Were you not married?" Ginny asked Lupin.

"Umm . . . no. She, Remus's mother, I mean, we . . . dated . . . briefly, and then, well, she moved back to France."

Ginny's eyes widened. "And she was _pregnant_? And you never knew?"

Lupin just shook his head, letting the girl come to her own conclusions, scandalous or not.

Molly, despite knowing the truth, was acting as though she did not, and was blustering in the corner, muttering, "Terrible, terrible," over and over. "You poor dear," she said, cupping Remus's cheek when she came back to the table.

"This is exactly what I mean," she said, using the fake story to try and make her point. "They hardly know one another, and they're just jumping right into marriage. Now everyone sit and eat while the food is still warm."

When everyone dug in, Molly waited several minutes before continuing her point as though she had never stopped talking. "Speaking of _weddings_ ," she nearly whispered with a silly grin, her eyes cast down the long table. Lupin's eyes widened in understanding, showing absolute fear in the face of the red-headed witch and her implications, and he swallowed his mouthful of food, likely whole and unchewed. He looked up at Tonks, silently asking for help, but she was content to sit there and smirk at him.


	12. Chapter 12

**July 31st, 1996**

The next few weeks were spent either at Grimmauld Place or, when Remus and Harry got fidgety enough, the Burrow. They would fly and play Quidditch, and Remus was more than happy to help Molly Weasley with any chores, feeling a bit beholden to the woman for feeding him so frequently. He would talk about James and Lily with Harry as often as his new friend wanted, would play Exploding Snap with Ginny, chess with Ron—who was thrilled for some "halfway decent competition"—and then, of course, he would write to Hermione.

As the second full moon approached that month, Remus locked himself away in either the library or Hermione's room at Grimmauld Place. Harry occasionally had nightmares, but other than waking him, Remus was not able to help much. It made it worse knowing _why_ Harry had them. Just thinking about James made the grief fresh for Remus.

After a few days sleeping in the same room as Harry, only to wake and have that split second memory lapse that he was not at Hogwarts in Gryffindor Tower and the black-haired wizard in the next bed over was not James, he could not handle it anymore. He needed to sleep on his own—alone. He did, however, alert Sirius to Harry's nightmares.

The lead up to the full moon became worse when Lupin was sent away on a mission by Dumbledore. Remus knew it was likely regarding the werewolf packs, which made him incredibly uneasy no matter how often Sirius and Lupin told him everything would be fine. Sirius also had Order work to deal with now that he was a free man and able to come and go as he pleased, though most of his work related to the public and handling the press who had taken to calling Harry Potter "The Chosen One."

That left Remus mostly to himself, not wanting to burden his new friends with his problems, especially since Harry, Ginny, and Ron were not Animagi and could not exactly offer help the way that Sirius could. He sure as hell was not going to ask any of them to rub his eyebrows and forehead when the pre-moon headaches kicked in. Hermione had written him a letter, asking if he wanted her to come early to help. Stuck in a self-pitying moment, Remus had told her not to bother.

He drank his Wolfsbane Potion, delivered by Severus Snape—though Remus had still not _seen_ the man since his arrival in 1996—and on the night of the full moon, he and Sirius made their way down into the basement, warded the door, and waited for the pain to start.

It was worse than before. The stress and loneliness had gotten to him during the week, and somehow the wolf knew it— _felt_ it—and punished him for it.

Once his bones had broken and reset, his tendons and muscles torn and reshaped, Remus kept his mind like the month before, but still sat in the corner of the room, whimpering and falling prey to the instincts of the wolf . . . who just desperately missed his pack.

Padfoot stood by, a sentry guardian instead of playmate this time, and, after four hours of watching the young wolf suffer, he quickly shifted and slipped out of the basement, returning with a blanket that smelled like rose oil and oranges. After resetting the wards and shifting back into Padfoot form, he dragged the quilt to the corner of the room, dropping it at Moony's paws. The young wolf crawled onto the heavy blanket and almost instantly fell asleep, soothed by the calming effects of Hermione's lingering scent just as he had been upon his initial arrival at Grimmauld Place two months earlier.

When he woke up howling—and then screaming—as his body reshaped itself, he looked up and saw Sirius staring down at him. Remus turned his head shamefully into the blanket, doing his best not to cry. He had never been afraid of being vulnerable before—not like this, not with Sirius—but Sirius wasn't his best friend anymore; not like it had been.

Sirius was a grown man looking at him not like he used to. Not like a friend who was frustrated at being unable to help, but like an adult—a parental figure even—struggling with remorse and sadness, a helpless expression on his face that reminded Remus of his parents. _This_ Sirius had memories and experiences that Remus had not shared in, and he felt alone because of it, ashamed, and unable to talk about things he normally would have shared with his best friend.

Remus rested his head on the blanket and used it to dry the lingering wetness on his face. "Don't tell anyone, okay?"

Sirius nodded, acquiescing to Remus's quiet pleading. "It's okay, you know. If she helps . . . Let them _all_ help, mate." He gently placed his hand on Remus's shoulder, and both could feel it. No longer the bond of friendship, kinship, brothers . . . but one that felt more distantly familial.

And they both mourned the loss.

"Get up when you can. It's Harry's birthday today," Sirius said, clearly excited to be able to spend the day with his godson. "Don't feel obligated to overdo anything, though. Still . . . Hermione's coming home."

Remus smiled.

* * *

After an hour more of rest and slowly redressing himself in the clothes he had gone downstairs in the night before, Remus yawned and made his way out of the basement, trying to ignore his aching body as he climbed the stairs. The house was already filled with a number of people, and he winced slightly at the noise level but said nothing to anyone. Harry's birthday was not about him, and he wouldn't let the celebrations stop on his account.

"Nine bloody O.W.L.s and you're still on about the 'E' in Defence? Mental, you are," Ron said with an incredulous laugh.

Hermione's chin jutted out in stern defiance. "I keep myself to a certain standard, Ronald. _Harry_ earned an Outstanding. Considering everything we had to deal with last year with Umbridge, I had honestly expected us _all_ to have raised the bar. I'm blaming that woman, though," she bitterly insisted. "If we'd been properly taught practical Defence from the beginning of the year instead of that theoretical nonsense—"

"All right, Remus?" Ron asked, looking over Hermione's shoulder, clearly eager to change the subject.

Hearing Remus's name, Hermione spun around, wild curls flinging in her wake, almost striking Ron across the face. She grinned at the sight of the lanky boy, and, without thinking of the full moon the night before—or their present company—rushed forward and wrapped him in a hug as though she had not seen him for months and months. "Remus! I'm so glad to see you."

Remus winced a bit at the high pitch as well as being physically pounced on, but he hugged her back just as tightly. "I missed you," he said before thinking and then, when he looked up and saw Harry and Ron staring at them, he cleared his throat and laughed. "You know . . . because these two can't talk about anything other than Quidditch."

Harry and Ron laughed, and Hermione smiled at Remus when she pulled away from him.

"Happy birthday, mate," Remus told a grinning Harry.

Ron had a bright grin on his face. "Wait 'til you see the cake Mum made."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is food all you can think about, Ronald? Honestly."

Remus chuckled at the banter. "I wouldn't mind a bite, myself."

"Oh!" Hermione frowned. "I'd completely . . . _Of course_ you would. Mrs Weasley left you a plate, I believe. I hope that Professor Lupin didn't snatch it along with his own," she added with a small laugh.

"Lupin's here?" Remus asked, raising his brow. "Is he—?"

"He's good," Hermione answered. "Well, he's not hurt or anything. He looks . . . much like you, I suppose."

"Doesn't he always?" Harry asked with a laugh.

"Convenient, that," Ron added, and everyone chuckled as they made their way toward the kitchen, following the scent of cooked bacon, sausages, and toast.

"There have been another couple of dementor attacks," Lupin said as the teenagers stepped through the door. He was sitting at the table looking gaunt and grim, typical for the morning after a full moon. He likely had not fared well either—enduring the full moon without the company of Padfoot. Remus could not help but wonder where Lupin had spent the night. "And they've found Igor Karkaroff 's body in a shack up north. The Dark Mark had been set over it. Frankly, I'm surprised he stayed alive for even a year after deserting the Death Eaters; Sirius's brother, Regulus, only managed . . ."

Sirius let out a heavy sigh and stood from the table to refill his coffee cup. Lupin looked after him with a frown, clearly realising his mistake in bringing up Sirius's younger brother.

"Did you hear about Florean Fortescue?" Bill asked, pausing to smile up at Fleur, who was plying him with pumpkin juice. "The man who ran—"

"—the ice-cream place in Diagon Alley?" Harry interrupted, and all the adults in the room turned to look at the four teenagers standing in the doorway.

"Good morning, Remus," Fleur said with a bright smile. "'How are you feeling? Molly has made you breakfast. So heavy, this food, but your father tells me it is good for you to eat this much," she said, ignoring the way that Molly bristled behind her as she grabbed a plate from the counter and placed it beside Lupin, gesturing for Remus to sit down and eat.

He gave the blond witch a grateful smile. When she turned around to dote upon Bill some more, he mouthed a thank you to Molly, who held her head high and nodded at him, glad that he had seen who the _real_ generous witch in the room was.

"What happened to Mr Fortescue?" Hermione asked, sitting down beside Remus.

Bill frowned. "Dragged off, by the look of his place."

"Why?" Ron asked, while Molly pointedly glared at her eldest son for bringing up the subject in front of the teens.

"Who knows?" Sirius said bitterly. "He must've _upset them_ somehow," he sarcastically snapped. "You know how Dark Wizards are, eager to knock off every baby, teenager, and purveyor of ice cream."

"Sirius," Molly said reproachfully, snatching his coffee cup from his hand and refilling it herself.

"Dad says Ollivander's gone as well," Ginny said as she walked into the kitchen, quickly grabbing a scone out of Fleur's hands and taking a bite before the blonde even had a chance to look shocked or appalled at the redhead's behaviour.

Hermione frowned. "What'll people do for wands?"

Lupin frowned. "They'll have to make do with other wandmakers, I suppose."

"Was it . . .?" Remus spoke up after devouring nearly half of his plate. He looked up at Lupin and then Sirius. "Was it this bad during the _first_ war?"

Sirius frowned and looked away, putting all of his attention into his coffee cup when Molly returned it to him.

Lupin merely nodded, putting a hand on Remus's shoulder. "Yes. It really was."

* * *

The teenagers all separated, each with various things to do. Molly had Ron and Ginny off helping with random chores to set up for Harry's birthday dinner, Hermione was getting a head start on Arithmancy for the upcoming year, Harry was being distracted by Sirius while Molly finished the cake, and Remus had taken a chance to catch up on the proper sleep he had missed the night before.

Back in the "boys' room" since Hermione had returned, Remus was not surprised to be woken when Ron walked through the door. "Oh, sorry," the redhead said, wincing apologetically.

Remus groaned as he sat up. "It's fine. Shouldn't sleep all day anyhow," he muttered, and then a thought occurred to him. "Hey, Ron, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, mate, what's up?" Ron asked, taking a seat on Harry's bed.

Nervously chewing the inside of his lip, Remus said, "I wanted to ask you . . . about Hermione."

"What about her?"

"I was just wondering if the pair of you were . . . you know."

Ron raised a confused brow. "Were what? _What_?" His eyes widened. "Me and—me and _Hermione_? I . . . umm . . . Why d'you want to know?"

Remus frowned as a slight blush crept up onto his pale cheeks. "Do I really have to say it?"

Ron scratched the back of his head, clearly shocked by the conversation. "I dunno. I mean . . . I've always kinda thought . . . All right, maybe not _always_. She and I had a bit of a fight fourth year when she let this big, stupid . . ." He scowled, sighing when Remus stared at him in confusion. "Right, so he was _technically_ an enemy if you _really_ think about it, and she let him take her to the Yule Ball just like that, and I might have come 'round and asked her to go but—"

"Who was he?" Remus asked, his gaze slightly narrowed as he felt a strange wave of jealousy come over him.

Ron snorted. "Viktor bloody Krum."

"And?"

Ron blinked in shock. "You've never heard—? Oh, wait, 'course you haven't," he said with an embarrassed laugh. "We really need to catch you up on Quidditch, mate. Viktor Krum, best Seeker in the world. He plays for Bulgaria. Caught the Snitch at the World Cup a few years back. Bloody brilliant. I've got his autograph!" he added excitedly.

Remus raised a brow. "You sounded like you hated the bloke not two seconds ago."

"Well . . . there's taking Hermione to a dance, and then there's _Quidditch_."

Remus's nose twitched. "She's not . . .? Are they together?"

Ron rolled his eyes dramatically. "She says not, but she writes him from time to time. Says they're just friends is all. Pen pals, she calls it."

"And _you_? Just friends?"

Smiling awkwardly, Ron let out a quiet laugh. "You _really_ fancy her, don't you? Isn't that weird? You being . . . or well . . . _Lupin_ having been her professor and all?"

Remus grimaced. " _I_ wasn't her professor."

"Well no, 'spose not."

"So you're not . . .? You and Hermione aren't . . .?"

Ron took a long moment to really contemplate the question, his brows knit together as he thought about it before finally letting out a loud exhale. "Just friends, I guess," he admitted with a tone that said he was surprised by his own answer. "I'd thought maybe one day we'd be more . . . you know. She's been one of my best mates for years and, well, she's not as pretty as some of the girls at school. Not as obvious or flashy about it, I mean. But she's smart and really nice . . . when she wants to be. I guess I hadn't thought much on it."

Remus swallowed hard. "I want us to be friends, Ron. If you and Hermione . . . I won't do anything."

"Really?" Ron asked, looking shocked.

"Yeah."

Ron smiled and then shook his head. "Thanks. But no. If you really fancy her, I think that makes sense, you know? You're both wicked smart, and you seem to at least like some of the same things. Just, er . . ."

"Hurt her and you'll hex my bollocks?" Remus suggested, and Ron laughed loudly.

"Something like that, yeah."

"Thanks, mate. And, umm, could you not say anything about this to her? I'm not entirely certain . . . I'm not used to anyone other than a few close friends knowing my secret. Girls didn't really figure much into my future before, but Lupin says it's all right. Safe, I mean. I won't—" he began to say, trying to tell Ron that he wouldn't put Hermione in danger regarding his lycanthropy, but the boy was just sitting there, smirking at him the way that a lot of people did when he brought up being a werewolf like it was a mild case of the flu instead of a lifelong, dangerous, and potentially fatal condition.

Remus sighed. "Just don't say anything? I don't exactly know when . . . or even _if_ I will . . ."

Ron took a moment to contemplate the request and then grinned. "Give me your extra slice of cake after dinner?"

"What makes you think I'll _get_ an extra slice?" Remus asked with a chuckle.

"'Cause Mum's been going on about how much she needs to feed you and Harry. And _he's_ not going to part with his own birthday cake. Even if he did, I'd get hexed for taking it."

* * *

Harry was centred in the middle of the dining room table, surrounded by few presents but more family and friends than ever before. Arthur and Molly Weasley were grinning as he opened their gift of a photograph that had been taken the year prior of Harry with the entire Weasley family. Ron and Ginny both jumped at the chance to take partial credit for the present, and no one else argued as they were the only other Weasleys in attendance. Fred and George were preoccupied with their shop, while Bill was held up at work.

Also missing from the table was Tonks, who was off on a mission for the Order alongside Moody, which left Sirius in charge of keeping Lupin company.

When it came time for Harry to open his last gift, one from Sirius, there was no denying what it was. A long, wrapped broom-shaped present was placed on the table. Harry's cheeks turned red, and his eyes widened at the sight as he tore into the wrapping, revealing a pristine broomstick sitting in a pile of shredded red and gold paper.

"Bloody hell," Ron said reverently, reaching out to almost-but-not-quite touch the handle as though it were sacred.

"Language, Ronald!" Molly scolded her son. "Honestly."

"Mum, that's a Firebolt _Burst_!" he said, as though trying to convince her that his language was perfectly adequate given the circumstances. "I didn't even know they were released yet!"

Sirius grinned smugly. "They're not. I made a deal with the guy."

Harry ran his fingers over the handle in awe, looking as though he were struggling with trying to find the right words to show adequate gratitude to his godfather.. "This is brilliant, Sirius, honestly."

Sirius smiled and kissed the top of his head.

"Can I have your _old_ Firebolt?" Ron asked.

"Old?" Hermione scoffed. "Ronald, it's not even been three years since he got it for Christmas! And your mother gave you your own broom last year."

Molly nodded. "And it's perfectly good enough for you to _keep_ flying!"

"What's Harry going to do with two brooms?" Ron argued.

Harry looked up and frowned. "Well, Remus will need one, won't he?"

Caught off guard by the subtle suggestion—though he should not have been, considering James had tried to do something similar during second year when he and Sirius had gone to try out for the Quidditch team—Remus looked up, brows raised. "I'm okay, Harry. I don't play Quidditch at Hogwarts."

"Why not?" Ginny asked. "You seem to play perfectly fine at the Burrow."

"Because I'm, umm . . ." Remus stammered a bit realising he had almost blurted out his condition to the only Weasley that did not know it yet.

"Is it because of the werewolf thing?" Ginny asked, and, when Remus's eyes widened—still not used to people just saying it like that, especially when they weren't supposed to know—she rolled her eyes. "What? Was that a secret? Really? Oh, come on, not like I actually care. His dad's perfectly normal . . ." she said and smirked up at her former professor, "for an old swot, I mean."

Sirius and Lupin laughed loudly.

Harry was grinning at the scene. "You sure you don't want it, Remus?"

Remus shook his head. "I'm sure. Thanks, though."

"Can _I_ have it?" Ginny asked excitedly.

"Oi!" Ron snapped at his sister. "If anyone's getting Harry's old broom—"

"It's not old!" Hermione scolded.

"—it should be me! _I'm_ his best friend. You can have my old broom, Gin."

"No one is getting Harry's _extra_ broom!" Molly huffed. "Ridiculous. It's Harry's birthday, not anyone else's."

Suddenly, Sirius stood up straight, his eyes darting across the room toward the door.

"Something wrong?" Hermione asked curiously, following his line of sight and not noticing anything in particular.

Remus frowned and stared stiffly at Sirius, nervous as to what could have drawn his attention so suddenly. "Sirius?"

The man shook his head. "Weird feeling in the wards. Probably just some passing Muggles," he muttered and then stepped away from the table. "I'll be right back." He was closely followed by both Lupin and Arthur, leaving Molly to distract the teenagers with second servings of cake. She did not even notice when Remus slid his plate across the table to a brightly smiling Ron.

"Are you certain you don't want to try out for the team, Remus?" Hermione asked, pushing her own plate of cake to the side, already more than stuffed from the meal. "I'm sure they could work the practice schedule around the week of the full moon."

Remus smiled at her, placing his hand on the table where their fingers brushed up against one another. "I'm okay. I plan to try and stay out of the spotlight as much as possible. No need to draw any unwanted attention to myself."

Ginny let out an indelicate snort. "You're friends with Harry Potter. Good luck with that."

Lupin walked back into the room, bringing tension and anxiety with him. Everyone reacted and fell utterly silent as he spoke. "Molly, send a message to Dumbledore and the others. We've a problem."

Molly gasped and held her hand to her chest, expecting the absolute worst. "What's happened?"

Lupin hesitated before speaking, looking at the teenagers who all kept him in their focus. After a moment, he sighed and just decided to talk freely. "Narcissa and Draco Malfoy are outside." Both Ron and Harry stood up looking ready for a fight. Lupin held out a hand to stop them from running off. "She remembered the general location of this house because it belonged to her aunt, but with the Fidelius Charm in place, they can't see it. They've just been standing out front staring at the bricks. Sirius is outside speaking with them now, but we'll need Dumbledore to bring them in if he—"

"Bring them _in_?" Harry shouted. "Why would you do that?"

"We're talking about bloody _Malfoys_!" Ron spat. "They're all rotten Death Eaters!"

The two boys, followed quickly behind by Ginny, ran to the front of the house and peered out the windows. Hermione and Remus were there shortly after. Remus frowned when he glanced outside to see Sirius standing on the sidewalk in front of Grimmauld Place. A slender blonde had fallen into the man's arms, sobbing against his chest with her fists curled up into tight little balls. Sirius looked decidedly uncomfortable as he stroked a hand down her hair.

"Is that . . .?" Remus muttered to himself, remembering the last time he saw Narcissa Black— _Malfoy_ now—prior to her graduation. She had not been speaking to her cousin at the time; the same cousin she was now embracing and crying on.

"Malfoy," Hermione muttered, her eyes drawn to the young wizard standing behind his mother. He had a wand gripped tightly in his hand but held in such a way that no passing Muggles would notice. He looked gaunt and sickly pale, but tense and nervous as he drew his attention rapidly around them acting like . . . prey.

"What happened?" Hermione whispered, looking up at Lupin who kept a firm hand on both Harry and Ron's shoulder as though he were expecting either to run out and attack the Malfoys.

"It would appear that Lucius Malfoy, for the safety of his family, attempted defecting from the Death Eaters. Voldemort murdered him."


	13. Chapter 13

**July 31st, 1996**

The Malfoys were brought into Grimmauld Place once Dumbledore had shown up. Other than a few distrusting glares, the teenagers had no contact with the family of two. _Two._ Because, apparently, Lucius Malfoy had been killed in an attempt to free his family from Voldemort.

"I don't get it," Harry said angrily as they sat on the staircase, staring at the door that had been closed and Silenced from the other side. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy were being interviewed via Legilimency and Veritaserum—at Moody's insistence—leaving everyone who was not a member of the Order outside, wondering what on earth had happened. "Lucius Malfoy was there, at the Department of Mysteries. Hell, he led the charge! He was the one who cursed Lupin! Well, him and Bellatrix. I don't buy it. There's no way he would have defected from—"

"Quiet," Remus said, squinting as he focused.

"Are you . . .?" Hermione gasped. "Remus! Can you hear them?!"

"Not if everyone keeps yelling."

Ron grinned, looking impressed. "Bloody hell. You can hear through Silencing Charms?"

Remus nodded. "If they're not too intricate. Plus the full moon was just last night. All my senses are basically hyper alert right now. Yelling hurts, by the way," he added quietly as an afterthought and grimaced when all three of his new friends looked guilty for their outbursts. "I think Tonks put up the Silencing Charm. She's brilliant at a lot of things but sloppy at others." He noted the way Hermione blushed, knowing that he was referencing the fact that he'd been able to overhear Tonks and Lupin having sex.

"What's happening?" Harry eagerly asked.

Remus concentrated again, listening in on the Order meeting and feeling only slightly guilty for it. In all honesty, he was thrilled at the familiar feeling of mischief settling in his chest. It was the same feeling he got anytime James would throw his Invisibility Cloak over them, or the first time Sirius managed to properly complete a Disillusionment Charm so they could sneak to the kitchens during the three month period where Peter had lost the cloak somewhere under his bed.

On the other side of the door, the members of the Order surrounded the Malfoys. Alastor Moody was leading the angry charge, suspicious despite having interviewed both under Veritaserum—illegally, as the young Malfoy bitterly reminded him. Tonks was in Auror mode, taking notes and generally being at Moody's beck and call, keeping an eye on her cousin and aunt just in case this was some sort of trick. Lupin was assisting Molly in the kitchen, as the ginger witch—heartbroken to see the grief in Narcissa and Draco's faces, despite being on the wrong side of the war—did what she did best in times of crisis, and set out to fix a meal to help provide comfort where it was possible. For all Sirius claimed to hate his family, at least most of them, he had not let go of Narcissa's trembling hand since the moment she had fallen into his arms in front of the house.

"You have to understand," she said, doing her best to rein in her shattered dignity despite the heavy, and far too recent, grief digging away at her heart. "I understand that there were choices available, and Lucius _could_ have . . . _we_ could have aligned ourselves with you from the beginning, or at the very least, since the Dark Lord's return, but that's just not—"

"Not everyone is a bloody Gryffindor," Draco interrupted his mother, reaching out to take her free hand. "The Dark Lord came right to _our_ home once he returned last summer. Were we to just send him on his way? Him and all of his followers with wands sworn to his cause?"

Before Mad-Eye could say a word—and he looked like he really wanted to—Dumbledore jumped in with a soft smile. "We all have our reasons for making choices, good or bad. The past is the past, and the future is what's important now. Healing from this awful tragedy in your lives, and perhaps helping so that others will not have to suffer similarly at the hand of Voldemort." He frowned when both mother and son flinched at the use of the Dark Lord's name. "Try not to feel guilty, Draco. Your father—"

"Don't tell me what I feel," the boy snapped. "My father is dead because he refused to let the Dark Lord make me one of them. Because he . . . Because he wanted me to . . ."

Narcissa squeezed his hand. "He was angry, so angry, to find out that Bella had been arrested along with the others in the Department of Mysteries. Lucius was one of few who escaped, and he was in charge of retrieving that blasted prophecy. To come home empty handed and have lost so many of the Dark Lord's followers. It might have been better if Lucius had been arrested. At least then he would be . . ."

Draco reached into the pocket of his robes, retrieving a silk handkerchief for his mother. "Some followers he could do without, but Aunt Bella was his most loyal. When others started wavering in their support or loyalty, it was _she_ who would rally them. Not many saw her for what she really was."

Sirius frowned. "Azkaban has a way of . . . It poisons the soul. Bleeds you dry and drives you mad."

"How did you manage for so long?" Narcissa asked him.

"I knew I was innocent. Bellatrix revelled in the fact that she wasn't."

Narcissa nodded, swallowed, and then looked back up at Dumbledore, unafraid to make eye contact with the powerful Legilimens. What did she have to fear after her mind had been repeatedly infiltrated by the Dark Lord over the past year? "When Lucius returned to tell the Dark Lord of Bellatrix's arrest, he went mad. At first, he tried to recover, but the prophecy had been lost as well and . . . You've truly no idea how badly the Dark Lord wanted— _needed_ —that prophecy. With it gone, as well as a good portion of his inner circle, he started sending the others out into Muggle cities to attack at random."

"The Brockdale Bridge?" Tonks asked. "The one that collapsed?"

Narcissa nodded.

"He was responsible for the death of that Ministry witch," Draco added. "Bones."

"Amelia," Moody said angrily. "And Emmeline Vance?"

Draco nodded his head. "Her too."

"When nothing was getting done to properly advance his cause, he turned inward," Narcissa explained. "Blamed his followers for their ineptitude, Lucius mostly because he was responsible for retrieving the prophecy about Potter—" She paused when Sirius released her hand at the mention of his godson, as though he had been reminded that she was not on the right side _yet_.

Her hand lingered in the air for a moment, and Dumbledore tried to fill the void, reaching for the woman, but her icy blue eyes caught sight of his blackened hand, and she recoiled, instead grasping the glass of water in front of her and taking a sip before speaking once again.

"It was suddenly _Lucius's_ fault for the Dark Lord's failures. The prophecy, Bella's return to Azkaban . . . He even started accusing my husband for his original downfall. Saying that he hadn't worked hard enough to prevent . . ." She stopped mid-sentence, noting that Sirius's demeanour grew colder at the mention of the first war.

"He asked— _demanded_ —for Draco. Said that the son would suffer the sins of the father, and if Lucius couldn't redeem himself, then perhaps Draco could. But we . . . Lucius knew what it really meant. Punishment." She turned her head toward her son, holding tight to his hand with one of hers, while her free fingers affectionately touched the unblemished skin of his left forearm. "My husband may not have been a good man by _your_ standards," she said coolly, "but he was a good husband and father."

Dumbledore looked at Draco. "Did he tell you _how_ you were to redeem your family?"

Draco was tense and cold and did not even blink as he met the gaze of the old wizard. He waited patiently until Narcissa squeezed his hand in silent confirmation before speaking. "There's a cabinet in the Come and Go Room. One of my Housemates was thrown into it by the Weasley twins last year—"

"They did _what_?" Molly shrieked from the kitchen, and Arthur stood and left the room to go and calm his wife.

Draco cleared his throat and returned his attention to the headmaster. "The cabinet has a twin at Borgin and Burkes. I was supposed to go there and purchase it, but leave it at the shop. The cabinet at Hogwarts is broken, but when mended, it would provide—"

"Safe passage from Knockturn Alley into Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, finishing Draco's sentence for him. "Marvellous," he said, as though he had just been shown a bit of entertaining magic. "And once inside?"

"They . . . I . . ." Draco started, his gaze finally wavering, flickering to the table. "I was to kill . . . you."

As though he had made an actual threat against Dumbledore, Moody was right at Draco's side, wand drawn.

Dumbledore, however, raised a hand to still the paranoid Auror. "Calm down, Alastor. The boy only offered truth when I requested it. As you can see, I am perfectly well," he added, pulling his blackened hand beneath the sleeve of his robe as he spoke. When Moody retreated, like an angry attack dog who had long lost his usefulness, Dumbledore smiled at the Malfoys. "Your honesty and bravery are appreciated."

"It's not _bravery_ ," Draco spat, the word sounding bitter. "We came here to you because we had nowhere else to go. My father openly defied the Dark Lord when we were caught trying to escape our own home." He angrily looked down again, holding his mother's hand even tighter. "We had to have a bloody house-elf Apparate us out of our own wards because _he'd_ locked us in. Made us watch while he . . ."

"Molly?" Dumbledore called. "Do you happen to have any of those delightful chocolate biscuits of yours? I just realised that I'd skipped dinner this evening. The mind of an old man tends to wander."

Molly came into the room with a tender smile, a large plate of biscuits in one hand while the other levitated a pot of tea and several cups. She set everything down and then, without a word, smiled sympathetically at Narcissa as she poured tea for the woman, offering it to her like the olive branch that it was. Everyone watched the silent exchange as the blonde gave the smallest nod of gratitude and accepted the cup. Molly looked nearly overjoyed at the reception, as though she had just handfed a venomous snake and came away without a bite; instead having made a new friend.

Draco, clearly hungry, reached for one of the biscuits.

"Those are an old family recipe," Molly said proudly. "I almost didn't have it in me to part with, but Hermione was so excited to learn how to make them."

The Slytherin's hand stilled over the plate as though he was suddenly contemplating whether or not to partake, knowing that they had been made by a Muggle-born. Instead of looking angry or disgusted, he actually looked nervous, almost frightened. Everyone noticed.

Sirius's eyes narrowed at the boy. "You want a safe harbour? Muggle-borns come with the package. All or nothing, mate," he said and reached across the table, grabbing the plate and pulling it toward Draco. "Eat up."

Draco hesitantly grabbed a biscuit and brought it to his mouth, letting out a slow sigh of relief as he chewed and swallowed.

"We'll need to destroy that cabinet, Albus," Moody said. "Before he finds some _other_ idiot kid to do the job."

The young, blond wizard narrowed his eyes at the Auror. "He won't. My mother and I both knew the plan, and if he knows we're here, and he _does_ ," he clarified, "then it's only obvious that we would tell you everything we knew. His plans for infiltrating Hogwarts that way are useless now."

"Is he planning on marking any other children?" Lupin asked as he entered the room behind Arthur, nodding a thanks to Molly as she handed him a cup of tea.

Draco shook his head. "Too risky. It was one thing to mark me and have no one know about it. But now that I've revealed his plan . . . For all the Dark Lord is aware, you'll have Filch checking forearms as students exit the Hogwarts Express. Still, he may still use some of them, marked or not."

"Who?" Moody demanded.

Draco closed his eyes, looking pained to betray his Housemates. "They haven't done anything yet."

"And we will not treat them as enemies," Dumbledore said, looking at Moody. "Will we Alastor?" The old Auror scoffed but then, after a stern look from the older wizard, backed down. "Young Messrs Goyle, Crabbe, and Nott should be looked after. Unmarked Death Eaters are in just as much danger as any other young witch or wizard."

Draco looked briefly shocked that Dumbledore already knew the names of the Slytherins most likely to be given an order by the Dark Lord. Then again, it should not have come as a surprise considering their fathers had been arrested in the Department of Mysteries and were known Death Eaters.

"We have much to do," Dumbledore said as he stood. "Mrs Malfoy, Mr Malfoy, I am so very grateful to know that you have both made it safely out of your home, and you have my deepest condolences for your loss. Sirius, can you see to their comforts?"

Sirius nodded. "Cissy, you can have my mother's old room. It's the only one Kreacher kept perfectly clean, but I've not put it to use since coming back here."

Narcissa offered a tight smile and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, cousin."

"As for you," Sirius said, looking at Draco and sighing. "Can't put you up in the boys' room. I reckon, right side now or not, you and Harry would likely kill each other before the night's over if you're left alone in the same room." Draco's sneer confirmed his suspicion.

"Leave Ron with Harry for the night," Lupin suggested, looking to Arthur and Molly. "That is, if it's all right that he stay here."

Molly nodded. "That'll be fine. He's been a bit of a useless mess with Fleur at the Burrow anyway," she said, looking annoyed. "It would do him some good to spend some time away from her."

"Draco can stay with Remus, then." Both Narcissa and Draco looked up, brows furrowed as they stared first at Sirius as he spoke, then turned their attention in confusion toward Lupin. "Not _him_ ," Sirius clarified. "His son's here with us. Kid's mum died so he's transferring to Hogwarts this year."

Outside the door, back on the stairs, Remus relayed the conversation to the trio. "So I guess I've got a new roommate," he said and looked back at his friends. "Anything I should know about Draco Malfoy?"

Ron's face was red with anger, and Harry was actually growling. Hermione nervously bit her lower lip and avoided Remus's gaze.

Remus frowned, eyes wide and anxious. "Merlin, how bad _is_ this bloke?"

* * *

While the Malfoys were fed a late dinner, Harry, Ron, Remus, and Hermione were asked to help clean out Regulus Black's old room so that it could be converted into a bedroom for Remus and Draco. Remus and Hermione Scourgified the surfaces and blankets, transfigured the one large bed into two smaller ones, and freshened the drapes, while Harry and Ron pulled all of the Voldemort and Death Eater propaganda from the walls, both looking horrified at the things they found.

"I can't believe Sirius's brother was a Death Eater," Ron said with disgust as he tore away a _Daily Prophet_ article—one of many in a large collage—that showed the Dark Mark hovering above a house in London.

"Sirius told me about him," Harry said. "He joined up when he was really young and then got cold feet and tried to leave—so they killed him."

"I knew Regulus," Remus said sadly. "Quiet kid. Smart but obviously lost." He sighed loudly, walking across the room and picking up a photograph: a Hogwarts Quidditch team was smiling and waving out of the frame. "Sirius was a mess when Regulus was Sorted into Slytherin. They tried to stay close for a while, but their parents wouldn't stand for it. Regulus was their last shot at a _proper_ pureblood heir," he said in a mocking tone. "And Sirius was a bad influence on him."

"Sirius is a bad influence on everyone," Harry said proudly, and everyone turned and grinned at him.

"Should we charm everything in here red and gold?" Ron suggested with a chuckle.

Hermione frowned, pursing her lips in disapproval. "Ron, I think we should leave it. Malfoy may be a, well . . . he's Malfoy," she said with a heavy sigh, "but he's just lost his father. You saw how heartbroken his mother was. Death Eater or not, they were a family."

"Yeah, but he's—"

"It doesn't matter. You'll stay out of his way and not say a word. You've still got both of your parents. Try to work up a bit of sympathy for him. Remember when your father was attacked last year?"

Ron frowned. "Fine. I'll just not say anything to the ferret. But if he calls you a—"

"I imagine if he does," Hermione interrupted, "then one of the _adults_ will handle him. It's not our place."

A few minutes later, Sirius brought Draco up to the room, hands on the boy's shoulders as he directed him right past Harry and Ron, who stopped to make eye contact with the Slytherin once before giving him a curt nod and going on their way. Hermione looked relieved, and Sirius looked almost amused at the lack of a fight breaking out between the boys.

"Here we are," Sirius said and looked around the room, swallowing down obvious bits of grief that lingered from years of pent-up anger over his brother's Death Eater status and subsequent murder. "You kids did a good job cleaning up the place."

"Malfoy," Hermione said, greeting the blond.

"Granger."

There was tension in the room that was thick and uncomfortable, and Sirius let out a low whistle before stepping back. "Right then, I'll let you at it," he said and smiled before exiting, leaving the door cracked open.

Hermione fidgeted as she looked between Remus and Draco. "I should get to bed. Long day tomorrow . . . revising and . . . such." She rolled her eyes when Draco snorted at her mention of revising during summer hols. "Goodnight, Remus."

He grinned at her. "Do you want me to, umm . . ." he said, wincing a bit as he gestured to the door.

She raised a brow and chuckled. "Walk me to my door? I think I can make it on my own. I hope your manners rub off on Harry and Ron, though." She looked like she wanted to reach out for him, give him a hug goodnight, but Draco stood between them, and she hesitated long enough that it was awkward to do anything other than leave.

Once the door was shut, Remus turned to the Slytherin and held out his hand. "Remus Lupin."

Draco stared at the proffered hand. "The werewolf's son, right?"

Remus's nose twitched. "Right," he said, keeping his hand held out. "Problem with that?"

The blond shrugged his shoulders. "As long as you don't hump my leg in my sleep, I think I'll be fine."

Remus scoffed and almost laughed, shocked when the boy eventually took his hand in greeting, shaking it.

"Draco Malfoy, though I suspect Granger, Weasel, and Scarhead already told you all you need to know about me," he angrily quipped.

Remus smirked at the names and rolled his eyes. Blond hair or not, the kid was obviously related to Sirius. Remus imagined he wouldn't like having that pointed out to him. "Right. Well, I'm new here myself, and I make my own judgements about people. As far as I'm concerned, you and I start from scratch."

Draco just nodded, tired eyes looking around the room. "Right," he said after a minute of silence. "You'll be a Gryffindor, for certain."

Remus chuckled, not needing to tell the boy that he already was one. "Like I said: scratch."

They readied themselves for bed in perfect silence. Draco slipped into pyjamas that had been set aside for him, old ones that belonged to Regulus, cleaned and freshened by Hermione. Remus slipped into his own clothes—borrowed from Sirius's closet since he still didn't have anything of his own—and cracked open an Advanced Defence book for a little light reading before bed. Draco found an old book on Charms on the nearby bookshelf, and the two quietly read to themselves before sleep began pricking at their eyes.

"Lights out?" Remus asked when Draco closed his book. The Slytherin nodded, and Remus turned out the nearby lamp.

In the dark, the silence was overwhelming, and Remus took the chance to fill it. "Hey, Malfoy?"

"Yeah?"

"I know I said that you and I are starting things from scratch, and I'll do my best not to let anything Ron or Harry say about you influence my own opinion . . ."

"But?"

"But if I hear you call Hermione a Mudblood, I'll smother you in your sleep."

There was a long pause before Draco replied, "Noted."

* * *

**August 1st, 1996**

The Hogwarts letters all arrived the following morning. Everyone gathered downstairs in the kitchen for breakfast, though Narcissa remained upstairs, secluded in Walburga Black's old bedroom, still grieving the death of her husband. Draco, however, forced himself to make an appearance, wearing a look on his face that said he was there to prove a point and not appear weak in front of the enemy. By the looks that Ron and Harry were giving him, the enemy was still exactly what he was.

The Slytherin had paled somewhat when the owls came in, a letter of his own in tow. "They can get in?" he asked, looking scared.

"Just the owls," Remus assured him. "Not even the Ministry can find this place without Dumbledore telling them."

A bit more relaxed, Malfoy tore into his envelope along with everyone else, examining their letters, complete with booklists and three prefect badges for Hermione, Ron, and Draco, who would continue on in their duties from the year prior. A Quidditch Captain badge fell out of both Harry's and Draco's letters with a loud thunk on the table. Both boys looked up at one another and narrowed their eyes competitively.

"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted in delight later on as the teens made their way out of the kitchen, the Gryffindors going up the stairs, and Draco making his way down toward the library. "This means you can keep me on the team!"

Harry frowned, looking uncomfortable.

"He'll have to hold tryouts, Ron," Hermione said. "He can't just openly show favouritism like that. It wouldn't be fair."

Ron scoffed. "Yeah, but I'm the best, anyhow."

Remus chuckled, and Hermione ignored them both. "Harry, this gives you equal status with prefects," she exclaimed. "You can even use our special bathroom now and everything!"

"It's a nice bathroom," Remus echoed her excitement. "After the . . . after the moon, there's nothing better," he admitted.

Hermione frowned. "Oh. I didn't even think. I'm so sorry, Remus. You're not a prefect anymore, and now you won't—"

He laughed hard. "Hermione, if you think I'm not still getting in that bathroom, you're out of your mind," he said firmly. "Prefect or not, there are some things I am _not_ giving up."

She pursed her lips, and Harry and Ron were smirking, waiting to see if she would allow for this blatant admission of future rule breaking. "And if I don't give you the password?" she asked, trying to hold her stern expression though he could already see the crinkles at the corners of her eyes.

Remus shrugged. "Then I've got another prefect friend _and_ a newly made Quidditch Captain who'll be more than happy to share it with me, I imagine."

Harry and Ron laughed, and Hermione rolled her eyes at all three boys.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Molly called everyone down for lunch, muttering under her breath about Fleur and Bill, and quietly scolding Ginny to behave herself. "I don't care what you think of the boy, you'll be on your best behaviour while you're here, Ginevra, or else I will take you straight home. You can spend the afternoon trying to teach that _woman_ your brother thinks he's going to marry proper English."

Hermione cleared her throat as they stepped through the door, announcing themselves. Molly jumped at the noise and stood up straight, smiling brightly at the teens. "Oh, lunch is on the table, eat up now, eat up," she encouraged them all. "Draco, dear, would you like to take a plate to your mother?"

He shook his head. "She says she's not hungry."

Molly frowned. "Maybe I'll bring her up some tea later on. Did you get your prefect badges?" she asked Ron and Hermione, though her tone of voice implied that she already knew the answer and had ulterior motives of bringing the subject up.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Mum's just upset because I didn't get made prefect like you lot."

"Nearly everyone in the family became prefects," Molly muttered.

"Fred and George didn't," Ginny pointed out but that did not seem to help her argument.

Harry looked up from his bacon sandwich. "Why do you think you didn't get it, Ginny?"

She smirked. "Probably got caught hexing one too many times last year," she said, looking at Draco who glared at her.

"Well, I don't suppose we can put off a trip to Diagon Alley much longer now you've got these," Molly sighed, looking down at Ron's booklist when he held it out to her, along with his prefect badge so that she could shine it up for him. "We'll go on Saturday, as long as your father doesn't have to go into work again. I'm not going there without him."

"Mum, d'you honestly think You-Know-Who's going to be hiding behind a bookshelf in Flourish and Blotts?" Ron sniggered, unaware of the way that Draco suddenly tensed.

"Fortescue and Ollivander went on holiday, did they?" Molly snapped at her son. "If you think security's a laughing matter you can stay behind, and I'll get your things myself."

"Please excuse me," Draco said and stood up, clearing his plate and leaving the kitchen as quickly as possible.

"What's his hurry?" Sirius asked as Draco passed him on the way out. He sat down between Harry and Remus, swiping pieces of bacon from their plates.

"I think he's worried he'll be attacked when we go to Diagon Alley for our things," Hermione said quietly.

Ron blanched. "Since when is he coming _with_ us? Are we going to be forced to hang out with the ferret all year as well?"

Molly sighed irritably and was grateful when Sirius answered for her. "Just until you go back to Hogwarts. Though, I suppose it would be helpful if you kept an eye on him. It's not going to be easy because his whole House will know what happened this summer. Slytherins are loyal to their own, but there's a limit to everything."

Just then, Bill stepped through the door with a smile on his face and several bags of coins in hand. "Chew, Ron," he suggested to his brother who looked like he could choke on his sandwich at any moment. He flung one of the bags of gold across the table to Harry, handing the others out to everyone. "I got these out ahead of time because it's taking about five hours for the public to get to their gold at the moment. The goblins have tightened security. Two days ago, Arkie Philpott had a Probity Probe stuck up his . . . Well, trust me, this way's easier."

"Thanks, Bill," Harry said, pocketing the gold.

"Wait!" Sirius snapped. "The Probity Probe actually _probes_?!"


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was HEAVILY influenced (and some parts actually written) by JustCourbeau, my standard for all things Weasley twins.

**August 3rd, 1996**

Remus stared up into the sallow, stern face of his childhood rival. Not really _his_. James's and Sirius's most definitely, but _his_? Then again, from the way Severus Snape was glaring at him, he would have to lean toward _yes_ , regardless of how much he wanted to say the opposite.

"Sir," Remus said respectfully, though the word felt foreign on his tongue when looking at the man who had been his age not two months earlier.

Snape had swore and cursed and tried to hex him just a few months ago when his friends had hung him upside-down by his pants in front of the school including Lily and—Remus swallowed at the memory and then blinked curiously, noticing that Snape's eyes had narrowed, and he was breathing hard through flared nostrils.

Remus furrowed his brow in confusion at the sudden anger, and then his eyes widened. "Are you . . .?" he began and then immediately looked away, breaking eye contact. "Did you just use _Legilimency_ on me, Snape?!"

"That will be _Professor_ Snape to you, wolf."

Lupin and Sirius were immediately there, separating the boy from the Potions Master. The former schoolmates glared and growled and sneered respectively until Molly stepped between them all, hands on her hips. "All right, you three! That's enough of this ridiculous animosity. You're all members of the Order and on the same side, for goodness sake!"

"That's yet to be determined," Sirius spat.

Snape glared at the man. "You may not be a murderer, Black, but that hardly makes you innocent."

Molly clapped her hands. "I said enough! Sirius, go and fetch the children. The Ministry car should be here soon. Remus—er, _both_ of you—go along and get your cloaks." Her attention turned to Snape. "Honestly, Severus, I would expect this kind of childish behaviour from Sirius, but you're supposed to be above such things. Legilimency on a student?"

Snape scowled. "He's not a student, yet."

"Be that as it may, I shall be discussing this with Albus," she said in a tone that evoked severe disappointment. "I understand you'd like to check in on Narcissa. She's just upstairs, the poor dear. Just so you're aware, Draco will be coming with us to Diagon Alley to get his school things."

The large group leaving Grimmauld Place was taken to Diagon Alley in Ministry cars. Harry and Sirius needed top grade security, what with both of them frequenting the _Daily Prophet_ far too often these days. A trusted Auror had been assigned to follow Sirius for protection, while they were told added security was waiting for them at the Leaky Cauldron.

The cars were magically larger on the inside, the back seats stretching into what resembled a two-seater sofa on either side. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Sirius had all gone in one car with Arthur and Molly, leaving Hermione, Remus, Lupin, and Draco in the other. Deciding who went in what car was not difficult as both Harry and Ron refused to sit with the Slytherin. Remus was delighted to see that Hermione had decided to accompany him on the short trip.

It did, however, leave an awkward silence on the ride to the pub.

When they finally exited the car, Remus smiled at the sight of Hagrid embracing Harry as he and Sirius exited the second car, followed by the Weasley family. Remus schooled his expression, remembering that he was not supposed to know who Hagrid was. Hermione rushed up to greet the half-giant.

Draco stepped out of the car after her, letting out a heavy sigh of irritation at the sight of the man. " _That's_ our security? Wonderful," he said sarcastically. "I feel so safe."

Lupin and Remus both ignored the boy, and the older man put a hand on Remus's shoulder before leaning down and whispering, "We haven't told Hagrid the truth about you. He's a good man, but not very adequate when it comes to keeping secrets. We thought it best to deny him the burden of keeping yours."

Remus nodded and smiled politely.

"Good to see you, Hagrid," Lupin said, shaking hands with the man. "I'd like to introduce you to my son, Remus."

Hagrid peered down at the young man with a bright smile hidden beneath his big, bushy beard. "Dumbledore told me you had a son! How's about that? Rubeus Hagrid," he said, introducing himself and shaking Remus's hand when it was extended to him. "Call me Hagrid, everyone does. Blimey, you look just like your dad. Should I be worryin' 'bout runnin' into any young Sirius lookalikes anytime soon?"

Sirius blanched. "Merlin, the likelihood of that is . . . fucking frightening, Hagrid," he said, shaking his head at the thought that he could have potentially fathered a child in the folly of his youth.

"We didn't know that you were going to be our security, Hagrid," Harry said.

"I know, just like old times, innit? See, the Ministry wanted to send a bunch of Aurors." Hagrid glanced at the one who accompanied Sirius. "But Dumbledore said I'd do," he said proudly, throwing out his chest and tucking his thumbs into his pockets. "Let's get goin' then—after you, Molly, Arthur, Remus, Sirius . . ."

They passed through the empty pub and into Diagon Alley, and Remus frowned at the sight. From what he remembered from his own world and time, the shopping district was colourful and full of life, especially this close to the start of Hogwarts. Instead, the dull streets mirrored the solemn grey sky above them. Shop windows were covered in Ministry approved security advice, similar to that which had been sent out in pamphlets earlier that summer. Other windows bore posters for fugitive Death Eaters.

Passing by Potage's Cauldron Shop, Draco reached up and angrily tore a poster off that read: " _Wanted: Lucius Malfoy, Suspected Death Eater and Known Associate of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ ", and then tossed the offending paper into a nearby bin.

Remus stopped and lingered on a large poster of the all too familiar face of Fenrir Greyback. He felt anxiety building in his chest just looking at the man who had made him what he was. The monster who had somehow survived the First Wizarding War was still alive, on the loose, and likely out there right now, looking for his next victim.

"Come on," Lupin said, directing the younger werewolf away from the poster.

When they approached Flourish and Blotts, there was a large cardboard sign pinned to the front of a shabby-looking stall with a striped, stained awning. The sign read:

_AMULETS  
_ _Effective Against Werewolves, Dementors, and Inferi_

A seedy-looking little wizard was rattling armfuls of silver symbols on chains at passersby. "One for your little girl, madam?" he called at Molly as they passed, leering at Ginny. "Protect her pretty neck?"

Arthur looked ready to arrest the man, but Sirius smirked and stepped forward. "Do they really work? I've had a terrible werewolf problem. Pretty sure I've got an infestation in my house!"

"In your house, you say?" the man asked. "Then you'll need at least three!"

"How much?" Sirius asked.

"Ten Galleons."

Lupin scoffed.

Sirius nodded in agreement. "Three," he countered.

The merchant looked offended. "Five!"

"Two and I don't report you to that Auror over there," he said, gesturing to the security-detailed Auror who was standing near Madam Malkin's, which had a decent view of the entire street.

The man bristled and nodded, exchanging three necklaces for six Galleons.

Sirius smirked as he took them, tossing one each to Lupin and Remus. "Put 'em on, lads," he instructed with a chuckle. "Don't want to leave yourself vulnerable to werewolves now."

Fully amused by the fact that the chains did nothing to either wolf, Sirius ran ahead to catch up with Arthur, slipping the chain into the man's hand and whispering "Evidence," in his ear.

"Right then," Lupin said and turned to the teenagers. "I've got some business down the way." He gestured to Knockturn Alley—Borgin and Burkes specifically—as he made eye contact with Draco, who nodded. "Why don't the lot of you go with Sirius to Madam Malkin's and get what you need there? I know Harry and Remus both need new robes."

"Wonderful plan," Molly chimed in. "Arthur, Ginny, and I will run into Flourish and Blotts and get everyone's books for them." One by one, she snatched all the school lists from each of the teenagers, Draco included. "Hagrid, you'll stay with them?"

"Don't fret, they'll be fine with me, Molly," he replied and led the group toward the robe shop. "Might be a bit of a squeeze in there with all of us?" He stopped outside, bending down to peer through the window. "I'll stand guard outside, all right?"

Inside, Sirius plopped down on a nearby sofa, picking up a catalogue and browsing while Draco went straight up to the counter, dropping a small bag of coins on it. Once Draco's order had been placed, he insisted on leaving the shop, not wanting to sit around and wait for the others as he needed to buy a new cauldron. Despite being advised to stick with the group, the Slytherin left the shop and slipped past Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with the Auror assigned to Sirius.

"Git," Ron mumbled under his breath.

Ron and Harry ordered their robes as quickly as possible, and Hermione simply placed her money on the counter, requesting just a new set to be delivered to the Burrow—as nothing could be delivered to Grimmauld Place—before the first of September. While Sirius and Ron dared Harry to try on some of the fancier dress robes in the back for a laugh, Hermione waited outside the small dressing room for Remus.

"How do they fit? I'm sure Madam Malkin would have time to tailor them. It's not very busy today."

Remus grumbled from within the dressing room and then let out a heavy sigh before stepping out, wearing a handsome set of black robes with red trim. They fit him almost perfectly, except for the sleeves which were a touch too long; he had rolled them back deliberately, a sign that he had no plans to have them professionally altered. Glancing in the mirror, Remus grimaced, scrunching his nose up at the sight, unaware that the witch at his back was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and staring.

"They're too . . ." he began to say. "Too everything. Too tight, too new, too expensive."

A warmth settled in his chest when Hermione stood and approached him, tucking her fingers beneath his collar, her skin brushing against his neck as she pushed the tag into place. She was smiling, and he could not help but mirror the expression despite the fact that he was not at all pleased with what he was wearing.

"They're not tight," she said. "They fit you properly. If you dress anything like your . . . Professor Lupin, then it's no wonder they feel tight on you. All of his clothes hang off of him. I happen to think you look quite . . ." She smiled brightly as she looked him over, a blush coming to her cheeks. ". . . Quite smart."

He grinned at her, nervously scratching at his neck. The grin faded when he looked back to the mirror. He sighed, gesturing to the scar on his neck, as visible to the naked eye as his insecurities were. "You can see."

Hermione reached up and loosened the collar for him, which had the opposite effect of covering the blemish as he assumed she was doing. When she pulled away, she had a determined look in her eye.

"Please don't hide," she whispered. "You shouldn't have to hide anything about yourself, Remus. You're perfect just as you are."

_Perfect_ , he thought to himself. _Well, that's certainly new._

"Ahem."

The pair turned to see Sirius, Harry, and Ron all staring, the younger two looking like they were having genuine trouble containing their laughter.

Remus blushed and took a step away from Hermione, which only made him back into the open door of the dressing room and nearly fall in when his hand reached out for a wall that was not there. He stumbled once and then righted himself, narrowing his eyes when Harry and Ron finally did burst into giggles. Hermione scowled at them and, with a sternly pointed finger, silently directed them away from the dressing room.

"You look good, Moony," Sirius said with a grin as he approached the young man, placing his hands on his shoulders. "She's right, you know. You shouldn't have to hide."

Remus looked down. "Everyone at Hogwarts is going to find out."

"Maybe. And maybe it's bloody time that they did." Sirius just smiled fondly when Remus gave him an incredulous look. "There's nothing wrong with you, mate. And I'll have words with anyone who says otherwise. In the meantime, you've got me, Big Moony, and the whole Order at your back. Not to mention more friends than you've ever had before, all of whom know about your furry little problem."

Remus looked down at the floor with uncertainty but silently nodded.

"Plus, you've got your very own personal attack witch," he said with a teasing grin. Remus growled at him. "Oh, now, none of that, Remus. Remember . . . you're _perfect_."

"Shut up," Remus said, shoving his old friend with a laugh.

Sirius chuckled harder. "Right, get changed so we can purchase those robes. You know, the ones you look quite smart in."

* * *

The small group met back up with Molly, Arthur, and Ginny; Draco was the only one missing. Molly huffed and spouted worries about the boy until Arthur calmed her and insisted that he would go search. The likelihood that Malfoy had run to Knockturn Alley was high, according to Harry and Ron, so Arthur sent a Patronus to Lupin to keep an eye out.

"Whoa," Ron said when they approached a large building set in the middle of the dulled, lacklustre version of Diagon Alley. Unlike the shops to the left and right of it, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was a brilliant burst of colour and life that some would call an eyesore. People passing by were transfixed by the displays in the windows, some stopping to just gape at the shop. Inside, the place was packed with customers.

Ron stepped toward the front door. "This is brilliant."

While Molly and the other Weasleys tried to locate the infamous twins that Remus had heard so much about, he was busy staring at the variety of merchandise with a look of awe on his face. Trick wands, new and improved dungbombs, fanged frisbees, screaming yo-yos, boxes of quills—which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties—and something called a Skiving Snackbox.

Remus reached out and grasped Sirius's arm, two lone Marauders in an ocean of pranks. "It's . . . It's . . ."

"Fucking glorious," Sirius said with a tone of reverence most people reserved for churches, graveyards, or museums filled with priceless art and items of historical importance.

Hermione stared at the two. "Don't look so awe-struck. You wouldn't believe the trouble they got in during the last two years coming up with this stuff," she tutted, "and only three O.W.L.s each, as well."

She tried to appear disappointed, but her gaze kept flickering to the various displays, and Remus could see the gears in her head spinning as she mentally dissected the charms and spells likely used to create the products.

"Give Remus a break, 'Mione," Sirius said with a chuckle. "We were wretched little mischief makers in school, but he always made sure we did our homework _before_ we played our pranks."

Remus smiled at the witch who suddenly looked proud of him again. He was desperately trying not to say out loud that if he knew he and his friends could have made a living off of an entire shop filled with things like this, he might have encouraged schoolwork a little less.

The crowd parted, and Sirius and Remus ran toward the shelves like greedy children to examine the items as though it were Christmas morning.

"Is that an Invisibility Spell extended around a pair of gloves?" Sirius asked with excitement, picking up and examining the leather in his hands.

Remus stood in front of the Wonder Witch line, holding a small box. "Pimple vanisher? That's genius! Does it work on other scars too?" he wondered aloud, looking up to spot Hermione staring at him with amusement, biting her lower lip and nearly giggling at his suddenly youthful expression. "What?"

She shook her head and shrugged. "It's nice seeing you so happy."

He smiled. He _was_ happy. The shop was filled with an energy that had been missing from his life since he had arrived in 1996. It reminded him of being younger, running around school, causing trouble, evading Filch, and laughing when Sirius and James had to serve detention because they had taken the fall to protect Remus's position as a prefect. His smile slowly faded as he thought of James and Peter. He took a breath and sighed. _They would have loved this place_. He turned and looked at Sirius who was examining a box of fireworks with an expression on his face that said he was thinking the same thing.

Sirius cleared his throat and reached into the pocket of his jacket. "I need a smoke," he said and put a bag of coins in Remus's hand. "Get me as much of this stuff as that'll buy." He patted his friend on the shoulder and retreated out the front door.

Remus looked down at the bag in his hand and frowned. Prongs, Wormtail, and Padfoot were lost to him. He understood Sirius's need to get out. The shop was suddenly fingers curled around the bag tightly as he closed his eye, focused on his breathing. He stopped only when a small hand slipped into the free one at his side.

He turned and opened his eyes to see a tender smile on Hermione's face.

"Come on," she said and pulled him after her, walking toward the counter where Harry was standing.

"Patented Daydream Charms," Remus read from a large display.

Hermione snatched up a box and began reading from the back of it, Remus looking over her shoulder at the picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl who were standing on the deck of a pirate ship.

" _'One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable (side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling). Not for sale to under-sixteens.'_ You know," Hermione said, looking up at Harry and Remus, "that really is extraordinary magic!"

"For _that_ , Hermione," said a voice behind them, "you can have one for free."

Remus turned to greet a tall redhead wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed painfully with the colour of his hair. The man turned and shook Harry's hand enthusiastically and offered a wink to the witch standing between them before looking at Remus. "And who's _this_? You catch yourself a bloke there, Hermione?"

Hermione blushed bright red, and she glared at the wizard. " _This_ ," she said, clearing her throat loud enough that it drowned out Harry's laughter from beside her, "is Remus. He's Professor Lupin's son."

The man's eyes widened, and his grin deepened. "Son of Moony," he said in an awestruck tone that had Remus instantly recoiling a touch. "Bloody hell. Sons of Moony and Prongs. Someone please tell me that Sirius has a bastard kid roaming around out there somewhere. I'd like to have the whole collection, mind."

Harry rolled his eyes, and Hermione sighed irritably, holding out a hand, gesturing to the redhead. "Remus, this is Fred Weasley, Ron's brother."

"Or am I George?" he asked the witch, quirking his lips in a way that Remus found highly reminiscent of James. The ginger tilted his chin down at Hermione in a facetious challenge, his cheeks dimpling.

She scoffed. "You're Fred. You can't fool me."

Before Remus had a chance to do much else, Fred took his hand and shook it excitedly. "Fred Weasley, at your service Mr Lupin, an honour, truly an honour to have Marauder progeny in my humble little shop." He clapped Remus on the shoulder and then swung an arm around Harry, shutting Hermione out of their newly formed little circle. "You have to let me give the pair of you a tour. Feel free to tell Sirius and Lupin all about the wonders you see here, and any tips and tricks of the trade they might pass down—family secrets, I imagine—will be considered equal to Galleons here."

"I'll just stay here then!" Hermione shouted indignantly.

Fred grinned and leant in to whisper in Remus's ear, "Watch out for that one, mate. I'm fairly certain my little sister taught her how to Bat-Bogey Hex a bloke. Nasty bit of magic." He wiped at a fake tear while smiling. "We're all so very proud."

They walked toward the back where there was a section of Muggle magic tricks and novelties. "Oi, here's George. Georgie! Look who wandered into our midst."

Remus looked up into the identical face of Fred's twin—no idea how Hermione told them apart—and the man glanced Remus over with a grin as he shook Harry's hand. "Bloody hell, you look just like—"

"Lupin," Fred said. "This here's his son."

George grinned. "Blimey! No kidding? You're the son of the Big Bad—"

"Professor," Fred finished with a chuckle. "Looks just like him, yeah?"

"Striking resemblance," George said.

"Exceptional likeness," Fred remarked.

"Uncanny, even," George agreed, sharing a suspicious look with his brother that left Remus swallowing nervously. "Who's your mum then? If you say McGonagall, you might make all my dreams come true. I have a theory about cats and dogs—or wolves—that I'd like to see tested."

Remus blanched. "No, umm . . . my mum was Emilie Delacour," he said, the words now habitual.

Fred smirked. "Delacour, did you say? Like our big brother's little beauty?"

Remus nodded. "Fleur's my cousin."

George grinned. "You a veela then as well? Part veela, part wolf. Bloody hell, the possibilities—"

"—are endless," Fred finished with a tone of whimsical contemplation.

Remus swallowed, still completely unused to people knowing that he—or in this case _Lupin_ —was a werewolf. "No. Wrong side of the family. She was just a witch. And umm . . . as for the other bit . . . lycanthropy isn't genetic," he said uncertainly.

Neither of the twins commented on the past tense Remus was using regarding his mother, but instead they led him and Harry back through a curtain to a room containing lines of merchandise that were not yet safe for public consumption, some of which looked like they were being set aside for Ministry use, including Shield Cloaks, Gloves, and something called a Decoy Detonator that George picked up to show off.

"You just drop one surreptitiously and it'll run off and make a nice loud noise out of sight, giving you a diversion if you need one," he explained.

"Handy," Harry said, impressed.

"You going to Hogwarts this year?" Fred asked Remus who nodded. "Right then, we'll need to stock you lot up. Can't have little Moony and Prongs making mischief without decent brand representation, can we, brother mine?"

"No, we can't," George agreed as they handed Harry and Remus each a box. "First you'll need one of these," he said, dropping a Decoy Detonator inside.

Fred stepped forward and threw in a set of what looked like fireworks shaped like dragons. "We just released these," he said and threw that, along with several other items, into the box.

"Try these and . . . let us know your thoughts." George added several more items and turned back toward the shelving on his heel, his robes swinging out behind him.

Fred grinned, picking up his twin's train of thought. "Customer feedback is indispensable."

George returned, looking back and forth between two boxes in his hands before deciding and depositing yet another into the pile. "And I can tell you know your merchandise."

"Owl us any time," Fred impressed, grinning widely.

"Questions, concerns, compliments," George elaborated.

Fred stacked everything neatly and added one final item that George passed to him from the far wall, a glance down at it prompting an approving nod of agreement at his twin's selection. "It's not a bother at all."

"We'd really love your _expertise_."

"Whatever you do," they said simultaneously and looked up, throwing a glance over their shoulders in opposite directions, voices lowered, "don't let Hermione catch you."

"Unless you're particularly fond of singing soprano," Fred said and made an uncomfortable face as he adjusted his trousers.

George nodded, eyes wide. "Use our experience as a lesson."

A young witch with short blond hair poked her head around the curtain. "There's a customer out here looking for a joke cauldron, Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley."

"Right you are, Verity, I'm coming," George promptly said. "Harry, Remus, you lads help yourself to anything you want, all right? No charge."

Remus immediately reached for the bag of gold Sirius had left with him. "Actually—"

"We can't do that!" Harry insisted.

"Marauders don't pay here," Fred said firmly, waving away both of the boys as they held out their bags of money. "Take whatever you like, and just remember to tell people where you got it if they ask."

They all walked back out into the shop, and Remus set out to find Hermione while Harry was searching for Ron. Less than a minute later, Remus caught the witch still looking over the Daydream Charms. "I didn't think you were the sort to waste time with daydreams," he teased with a smile. "Aren't there more important things to do?"

She smirked at him. "Of course, but, well, we all deserve a break from time to time, don't we? The drooling side effect doesn't sound too pleasant, though."

"Don't let that put you off. I happen to know that one of my best mates has a drooling problem, and he's a lovely individual just the same," he said with a chuckle and smiled brightly when she laughed. "Where's everyone else?"

She gestured to a display of Love Potions. "Weasleys are doing the brother thing and questioning Ginny about her love life," she said, rolling her eyes. "Bunch of silly cavemen, the lot of them. Then again, Ginny should have known they'd do something like this."

"It's none of your business!" they could hear Ginny shout.

"They're just worried. I felt the same way about . . . about Lily. Closest thing I had to a sibling, you know. James was perfect for her, but he was a bit of a berk as well. I'm glad to know he got over it for the most part," Remus said with a proud—but sad—smile.

Hermione sighed. "I'm an only child as well."

"So . . . no big brothers coming to scare off potential suitors?" he asked curiously, setting the box of WWW merchandise down on the nearby counter.

"Potential suitors?" Hermione scoffed. "Hardly. Ron and Harry do make an effort to increase the difficulty of a social life."

Remus immediately thought of the Krum fellow Ron had told him about. "So . . . they keep the blokes away. I take it that means you're—"

"Remus! Hermione!" Harry said, rushing toward the pair. "Ron and I saw Malfoy walking down the street out in front of the shop. He wasn't with Lupin or Mr Weasley either. He looks suspicious, so we're going to go and follow him. Can you two keep Mrs Weasley distracted?"

Hermione frowned. "Oh, I don't know, Harry," she said, looking uncertainly back toward Molly.

"Come _on_!" Ron begged.

"Go," Remus told them, though he wore an expression similar to Hermione's. Once the boys ducked under the Invisibility Cloak and vanished out the door, he turned to the witch. "I'm sure it's nothing, but really, Draco's not supposed to be going off on his own, anyway."

She huffed. "Neither are Harry and Ron."

Remus winced as though he had forgotten that bit. "Oh, well, they've got the Cloak," he tried to reason, a bit angry with himself that he had fallen back into old habits already: letting his friends do whatever they wanted, damn the consequences.

They apparently had nothing to worry about, as Harry and Ron returned less than fifteen minutes later, both looking serious and guilty but gave silent promises to explain later on when they had all returned to Grimmauld Place. Sirius soon rejoined the group and everyone—except for Harry and Remus—paid for their merchandise and said goodbye to Fred and George.

"So proud," Molly said, kissing each of their cheeks twice while they busied themselves counting Galleons.

Harry shook their hands while Ron grumbled about a distinct lack of a family discount.

Remus went to say goodbye and each twin shook his hand.

"Glad to have met you, young Moony," Fred said. "Feel free to stop by anytime. And put those pranks to good use. We want to hear all about how they worked."

George nodded enthusiastically. "And have fun at Hogwarts."

Remus smiled in thanks and turned to leave.

"Oh!" Fred called out. "And just so you know, the fourth-floor corridor caved in a few years ago. Still shows up on the Map, but don't bother with it."

Remus turned and nodded his head in thanks. Stopping to realise his mistake, he began to panic. Fred and George grinned, sharing a knowing look of smug, self-satisfaction and then mimed zipping their mouths shut, crossing their fingers over their hearts as the universal sign of keeping a secret.


	15. Chapter 15

**August 3rd, 1996**

The entire group—after reconvening outside of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes—returned to Grimmauld Place where Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Remus all gathered together in Harry's room and closed the door. Remus flicked his wand around and whispered " _Muffliato_ ," to which Harry and Ron furrowed their brows in question. "Special Silencing Charm. I'll teach it to you later."

"Malfoy ran off to Knockturn Alley," Harry told Hermione and Remus once they had sat down on the beds.

Hermione gasped. "No! After everything that happened to his family, and he still—"

Harry shook his head, a look of awkward guilt on his face. "No, Hermione. He wasn't . . . doing anything wrong. I don't think," he said, nodding when she raised her eyebrows in shock. "I know, I was surprised myself. He was there meeting Nott and Parkinson."

At Remus's silent question, Ron said, "Slytherins."

"And you're sure they weren't up to something?" Hermione asked. "Theodore Nott's father was one of the Death Eaters arrested in the Department of Mysteries."

Ron snorted. "I don't think Nott would look at us very kindly considering what happened to his dad, but he wasn't in Diagon Alley causing trouble. He and Malfoy are friends."

Remus looked surprised by the information. "They're _still_ friends? Even after Draco's father was killed for defecting?"

Harry nodded, leaning forward conspiratorially despite the Silencing Charm. "We got close enough to eavesdrop. I guess Malfoy and Parkinson were dating, but her parents told her to break up with Draco to keep herself safe. She's pretending to date Zabini instead."

"That's awful," Hermione said with a frown.

Ron scoffed, unsympathetic. "It gets worse. Malfoy's not even supposed to be dating her because apparently, his family had him arranged to marry one of the Greengrass girls. The little one. They had a contract and everything."

"I didn't even know that happened in the Wizarding World. I know Astoria," she said with a grimace. "She's a third year Ravenclaw. I can't believe her parents would set something like that up!"

Remus glanced at her thoughtfully. "It happened a lot in my time. I'm not surprised the old pureblood families still stick to the traditions."

He remembered how Sirius had received multiple letters from his parents the first three years at Hogwarts asking him to be nice to certain girls despite the "unfortunate circumstance" of his being sorted into Gryffindor. Even James's parents had talked with him about whether or not he wanted to pursue a contract with anyone, that is until they found out that he fancied a Muggle-born and then decided to just let nature take its course.

"Well, the contract is broken," Ron said pointedly. "Her parents ended it when his father was killed. They're not Death Eaters, but I guess they don't want to be friendly with people You-Know-Who wants dead. They gave her to Nott instead, since his father went to prison for being a Death Eater instead of turning traitor like Malfoy's dad did."

"Didn't look like Nott wanted her, though," Harry chimed in. "He told Malfoy that he'd try to protect her until they all made it through the war safely and maybe convince her parents to do right by her."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "Nott and Parkinson are on our side?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I don't even think Malfoy is. But they're not our enemies, at least in the war."

"They're still prats," Ron muttered.

Harry nodded in agreement. "That's not the worst of it. Nott told Malfoy that Voldemort was going to make him, Crabbe, and Goyle take the Mark, but because they knew Narcissa would have brought Malfoy to the Order, he knows that Dumbledore will be looking for Dark Marks on the Slytherins now, so he's held off."

"Nott seemed happy about that," Ron said. "I don't think he wants to take it. When Malfoy was asking about it, Nott looked like those first years that Fred and George used to experiment on with the Puking Pastilles."

Hermione frowned and subconsciously leant in closer to Remus. "So Zabini is pretending to date Parkinson to keep her safe, and Nott's taking care of Astoria because Malfoy can't. Slytherin lives are intense," she said, her voice heavy with concern. "Meeting in secret means they aren't supposed to be seen together. I suppose not outside of school, at least."

Remus looked down, his brow furrowed. Draco had been surly at first, but Remus had chalked it all up to the boy grieving the murder of his father. He had frankly expected much worse, but Malfoy pretty much kept to himself. It was the best that Remus had gotten along with a Slytherin since originally starting Hogwarts. "Do you think Draco's going to be safe at Hogwarts?"

"Are _any_ of us?" Ron asked with a chuckle. "Remind us later to tell you about Hagrid's dog, Fluffy, we met during first year."

Hermione rolled her eyes but then added, "Basilisk in our second."

Harry smirked. "Dragon in our fourth."

"Umbridge in fifth." Hermione laughed.

Ron grinned but then squinted in thought. "What did we have to fight during third year again?" Harry and Hermione gave him a stern look and none-too-subtly nodded their heads toward Remus, who rolled his eyes. Ron blushed red and frowned apologetically. "Right, werewolf. Sorry, mate."

Remus shook his head and waved off the apology. "Is Draco safe in the dungeons when we go back to Hogwarts? If not, we need to go and talk to someone in the Order. I know you guys don't like him, but it's the right thing to do," he said, his focus on Harry and Ron, unaware of the way Hermione was suddenly beaming proudly at him.

"He'll be fine," Harry replied.

Hermione turned her attention back to her best friend. "Are you sure, Harry? Nott might be on Malfoy's side, but just because they're not being given the Dark Mark, doesn't mean that Crabbe and Goyle won't be a problem."

"Parkinson was worried about the same thing," Ron added. "Apparently, Crabbe and Goyle were told to make Malfoy's life difficult until Snape stepped in. I guess before Lucius tried to bolt, Narcissa made an Unbreakable Vow with Snape that he'd keep Malfoy safe. The ferret wasn't supposed to know about it, but he overheard his mum telling Lucius when they were planning their escape."

Remus's jaw fell open, his eyes wide in shock at the revelation. "He made an _Unbreakable Vow_?"

"You know what that is?" Harry asked.

Remus merely nodded, not at liberty to say exactly _how_ he knew. He was fairly certain that twenty years—and a potentially alternate world of difference—wouldn't let him out of the Unbreakable Vow _he_ had taken with Prongs during fourth year. One to keep the secret that James was behind a spell gone awry which caused all of Hogwarts' cats to go into heat at the same time, resulting in the castle being overrun by kittens. McGonagall had been furious considering most ended up in her quarters or had been adopted by overly eager house-elves and, as a result, had caused an influx of cat hair in the food.

Hermione sighed anxiously. "That's really serious. Professor Snape could die if something were to happen to Malfoy."

"Exactly," Harry said. "And Voldemort still thinks Snape is on their side."

"A lot of us still think that," Ron mumbled under his breath.

Harry's expression seemed to say that he was not sure whether to agree with Ron or not. "Voldemort's called off any attacks on Malfoy because it would put Snape in danger, and he needs Snape because he's his eyes and ears inside Hogwarts. Ron's right, though," he said with a heavy frown, "I still think that Snape—"

"Dumbledore trusts him, Harry," Hermione interjected.

Harry rolled his eyes and nodded, having heard this argument before. "Yeah, yeah."

* * *

**August 26th, 1996**

Hermione had a problem. She had always been more logical and reasonable than the average Gryffindor, at least the ones in her own year. There was evidence to support the fact that not every little lion leapt before thinking things through clearly, but Harry, Ron, and the majority of the Weasleys sure made her feel something of an anomaly most of the time. Still, she had spent years trying desperately to keep her friends out of trouble rather than rushing into things recklessly. Granted, a good portion of the time she was right there at their sides, bravely—and sometimes ignorantly—putting herself in harm's way. That or in a situation where she should have thought more with her head and less with her temper, her loyalties, or her heart.

One large exception had lodged itself somewhere in the middle of her brain, though, and it was making her thought processes quite fuzzy.

_Remus_.

Specifically, a sixteen-year-old Remus Lupin standing in the bathroom in bare feet with a toothbrush in his mouth.

Her head was cocked to the side as she stared at him, a bit dumbfounded over how easily a blush rose to her cheeks at the sight. It was not, after all, as though he were wearing nothing but a towel, offering her a glass of wine or some other seductive nonsense. He wore pyjamas that were too long and a t-shirt that was too small. His sandy hair stuck up in the mornings, and when he turned to spot her in the hallway, he grinned, mouth full of minty foam.

She swallowed and tried to smile, certain that she looked stupid in the attempt.

Wizards did not brush their teeth. They used a charm that they were taught in first year. Even Harry, who had been raised Muggle, preferred to use magic. Hermione kept to her own habits; her parents would have pitched a fit otherwise regardless of whether or not the charm worked better. Seeing Remus do something so utterly Muggle was endearing and had her heart making strange little leaps in between regular beats.

"Why don't you use the charm?"

He shrugged, rinsed his mouth, wiped his face on his sleeve, and then grinned at her. "My mum was a Muggle."

He smiled more the closer it was to the full moon, she noted. Not a typical smile that indicated happiness but something secret—hidden. Something, she noticed that was just for her. His eyes glinted in the light when he did it, and her breath caught in her throat at the sight. He would step just an inch or two closer than he normally would, and, if the room was crowded, he was right there against her. She could swear she felt his breath on her neck when he would walk by.

In addition to the restlessness, headaches, and secret smiles just for her, Remus's temper also became more noticeable the closer they came to the full moon. So much so that she had caught Malfoy observing him with curiosity from time to time when he would snap at someone—usually Sirius, who often appeared to purposely provoke Remus as though he were trying to get the boy's anger out in one swoop, redirecting it from anyone else in the house.

Hermione also noticed that Malfoy was struggling with his own temper. Dealing with new surroundings, a crowded house filled with people who had never been his friends before, not to mention the grief over his father's death and stress of the approaching school year, the young Slytherin was nothing but sneers and scowls and sharp words thrown down hallways. He and Harry verbally sparred at least twice a week, and he and Ron had drawn wands on one another once.

It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Two days before the full moon, Hermione woke later than normal and made her way to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. Tired and not paying attention, she had run straight into Malfoy, knocking her head on his chin. She winced, rubbed at her scalp, and made to apologise, but he snapped at her before she got a single word out.

"Fuck, Granger! Can't you watch where you're going?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped into the bathroom just as she overheard him mutter "Clumsy Mudblood," under his breath.

She scoffed at the slur that meant nothing to her these days, having heard it far too often. He had been oddly better at holding his tongue since moving into Grimmauld Place, but she knew that old habits died hard, and people could not just change overnight. He had been strangely amenable to her since his arrival, so she did not think much on his bitter mumblings. Besides, for every time Malfoy called her a Mudblood, she knew Harry and Ron would call him a ferret, and at least Hermione did not have any horribly embarrassing moments that came to mind whenever the blond threw the name-calling _her_ way.

As she closed the door, she silently hoped that Harry had not overheard Malfoy, otherwise he was liable to overreact, and another fight would break out between the pair.

She had not thought that someone _else_ even _more_ dangerous would have heard him until there was a loud smacking sound followed by a bang, the walls vibrating. She quickly opened the door and rushed down the hall, eyes wide, to find Draco pinned to the wall and held a foot off the ground by his throat.

Remus glared at the Slytherin, an inch from the boy's face, growling. His tone was low and dark as he said, "I warned you."

Draco looked genuinely afraid when Remus's eyes turned from soft green to liquid gold.

"Whoa!" Harry shouted when he walked down the hall from the opposite side to see his rival being pinned against the wall by his new friend. Harry drew his wand to help—or add fuel to the situation. "Remus, what happened?!"

Harry's intensity seemed to stoke the angry fire inside of Remus, and his fingers dug harder into the side of Malfoy's throat.

Hermione stepped forward and tried to put herself between the pair, placing one hand on Remus's taut arm and the other on his cheek. "Remus," she said softly, pursing her lips when he did not respond at first. "Moony." She sighed with relief when _that_ drew his attention. "Please let Malfoy go."

"He called you a—"

"I know. I don't care. Everyone makes mistakes. I'm sure it was a mistake, wasn't it, Malfoy?" she asked, looking at Draco, her eyes hard as she fed him lines.

He was angry, that much was certain, but fear and self-preservation were overriding his rage at being assaulted this early in the morning. "M-Mistake," he said, voice hoarse and quiet as he struggled to breathe.

"Remus, let him go," Hermione pleaded, manoeuvring her head until she caught his eyes. She drew his gaze away from Draco, using her own like a beacon, doing her best not to get lost in the golden depths.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when he released Draco's throat, and, instead, wrapped her in his arms, pressing his cheek against hers, inhaling deeply. She looked over Remus's shoulder at Harry and Draco who were staring, mouths open at the sight. Wrapping her arms around Remus, she hugged him close to make it look normal. It didn't, but she felt she had to try.

She mouthed "Go" at the wizards. Harry paused for only a moment of hesitation before leaving the hallway.

* * *

Hours later, Draco had not reemerged from his bedroom, but no one was going around Grimmauld Place in a tizzy, so Harry assumed the Slytherin was staying quiet, something that unnerved him a bit as the boy had never been one to hold onto useful information for long before playing his cards. _Then again_ , Harry thought sadly, _he doesn't exactly have his father to run and tattle to anymore_.

Harry's own paternal figure was sitting alone in the dining room, a deck of Muggle playing cards set out in front of him in several rows while mismatched poker chips were stacked in the centre of the table. "What are you playing?"

"Solitaire," Sirius said with a grin, biting the inside of his cheek in deep thought. He sighed when he could not find a play for the eight of clubs and threw another small red chip onto the pile. "At least I think it's Solitaire. Read a Muggle book of card games once, and I don't think I remember all the rules."

Harry smiled affectionately at the man, eager to watch the game play itself out, but then he remembered why he had come downstairs. "Sirius, can I ask you some questions about . . . werewolves?"

Few subjects were able to draw Sirius's attention so quickly. He set down his cards and kicked the chair next to him back to allow Harry to sit. "Is this about this morning? The incident with my cousin?"

Harry frowned. "You know about that?"

Sirius nodded. "Once she got Remus calmed down, Hermione came and told me and Moony. Smart little witch, that one. She knew how to draw him away from an attack. I assume you know why he did it?"

A scowl crossed Harry's features. "Malfoy called her a Mudblood. I guess Remus gave him a warning not to, prior to this morning. I don't think Malfoy meant to. Just an old reaction, I guess. He was _really_ afraid, Sirius."

"He should be," Sirius said. "I've been on the wrong end of an enraged Moony, and it's not something to joke about. I do still joke about it, but, well, what're you gonna do?"

"Professor Lupin attacked you? When?"

"Fifth year. You already know the story. Sniv— _Snape_. . . It was when I tricked Snape beneath the Whomping Willow. The next morning after Dumbledore dressed me down good and proper, Moony was waiting for me back in the Tower, which was saying something because normally he stayed in the hospital wing right after the full moon. I deserved everything he said and did, and I was properly afraid . . . and genuinely regretful. I could have gotten Snape killed, and I would have turned my best friend into a murderer," he said with a heavy frown, the regret still clearly lingering in his consciousness.

Harry nodded in understanding. "Is he going to be like that _every_ month? Is there something I should be doing to help him?"

Sirius smiled proudly, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It'll probably get easier for him when you all go to Hogwarts. Here in the house, he's stir crazy. Plus, and don't mention it to him or he'll be completely embarrassed, but with Hermione being the only female your age in the house . . . he's going to become a bit territorial over her. Nothing can be done about it; it's just instincts he can't control. When you're all at Hogwarts, his senses will be a bit dulled because there are so many other kids there."

Harry's brows furrowed. "Is he . . .? Sirius, Hermione is my best friend."

"You're a good friend, Harry. Remus won't hurt her. This whole territorial thing is the wolf, but I think it's worse because Mini Moony has taken a fancy to our Hermione."

"Wait," Harry said. "Remus or Moony?"

Sirius smirked. "They are one and the same, Harry, no matter what he tells you. Remus is the wolf; the wolf is Remus."

Harry nodded and sighed, his own conclusion confirmed. "They're in the library right now. He's asleep with his head in her lap, and she's rubbing his forehead."

"Pre-moon headaches. She's a good girl. Are you going to be okay with them?"

Harry shrugged. "Not my business really, is it?"

Sirius laughed. "Of course it is! They're your friends. You think I just sat around the dorm playing Exploding Snap and watching your parents play a seven-year game of will they, won't they? Merlin, no. I meddled!"

"How did you meddle?" Harry asked with a laugh.

"Well, me and my friends," he said with a smirk, which Harry knew by this point meant both Lupin and Pettigrew—as Sirius refused to mention the rat by name unless cursing him, "sneaked into the trunks on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of seventh year. And I stole some . . . unmentionable things . . ." he said with a cough, " . . . out of your mum's trunk."

Harry blushed, grimaced, and then bowed his head on the table, laughing.

"Lily blamed James because he was the one who usually led our little adventures. When she confronted him about it in front of everyone in the common room, he turned right around and accused me. I pulled her knickers out of my pocket, and he punched me in the face," Sirius said proudly. "Said I'd gone too far, and it was disrespectful to Lily's privacy. Then he returned said knickers to the fair maiden, and she scolded him for using violence but then said thank you. A week later, she asked him to go to Hogsmeade."

Harry was laughing and shaking his head by the end of the story. "I don't think I could do that to Hermione."

Sirius chuckled. "Smart man. If you survived whatever Remus would do to you for _that_ , you definitely wouldn't make it through whatever Hermione would come up with as a punishment."

* * *

**August 28th, 1996**

Hermione looked up from her book when Harry knocked on her open bedroom door. She smiled at her best friend and gestured for him to enter. "What's up?"

Harry smiled awkwardly. "I umm . . . I wanted to talk to you about the other morning," he said, watching as she immediately grew tense, her body language instantly defensive. "Nothing bad, Hermione. It's just, well, I'm glad you were there. I'm glad that Remus has someone who understands. Even though, you know, you're not a werewolf and all."

She relaxed a touch. "He's miserable over it. When it's too close to the moon, and he can't help that—"

"I know. I'm not judging him. I talked to Sirius about a few things. Seems I should do some reading about lycanthropy, yeah?"

Without being asked, Hermione leant over the side of her bed and pulled out a stack of books, each with at least twenty tagged pages. "Start with _Hairy Snout, Human Heart_ ; it's the least offensive one there is. Then there's _Hunting Werewolves_ , and _Lupine Lawlessness_ , both are horrid and filled with biased absurdity, but according to Professor Lupin, the scientific statements are based in facts. I've blacked out the rest with a permanent marker," she added with an air of defiance.

Harry's eyes widened, gobsmacked. "You blacked out something in a book?"

Hermione huffed indignantly. "When it's trash like this, absolutely. Besides, it's my own copy, so it's not like I'm damaging someone else's property."

Harry smiled. "Is this from all your research during third year?"

She blushed. "No, this is . . . I bought these when we went to Diagon Alley. Or, well, I asked Mrs Weasley to get them for me. I didn't want Remus to . . . What? Why are you looking at me like that, Harry Potter?"

Harry chuckled. "It's just . . . Remember last year? The whole mess with me and Cho?"

Hermione nodded and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I can't believe she thought there was something going on between us. How—?"

"Disgusting?" Harry offered with a smirk.

She pursed her lips and raised a slender brow. "I was going to say _preposterous_ , thank you."

He laughed. "Yeah, that ended pretty badly. But up until it was horrible, it was nice."

Hermione frowned. "I'm sorry it ended badly for you, Harry, I—"

"Not that," he told her. "I could have done without the embarrassment, sure, but what was nice was that you supported me. Hell, Hermione, you knew Cho fancied me before I did. And I wouldn't have gotten the courage to do anything about it if you weren't there telling me what to say half the time. I probably would have made a fool of myself even more than I did."

She swallowed, looking down at the werewolf books on the bed, fingering the spine of one nervously. "Why did you bring this up?"

He shrugged. "Because it's obvious, isn't it?"

She let out a heavy sigh, looking positively mortified. "Is it? Am I really that transparent?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah. But I think that's okay because Remus is twice as bad as you."

Hermione looked up, eyes wide. "He . . . What . . .? Are . . . Are you sure?"

Harry nodded, not wanting to betray his friend's confidence the way Ron accidentally had, revealing to Harry that Remus had already spoken with him about Hermione's single status and any potential future she might have had with him. "Remember how you told me that I needed to be sensitive because Cho was still dealing with everything about Cedric's death? Well, that was good advice. So, I'm here to tell you that you need to be sensitive because of Remus being a werewolf."

Hermione's mouth fell open, offended. "Harry, there's no one who tries harder than me to be sensitive to Remus's condition, and I—"

" _You_ need to be the first to make a move," Harry blurted out. " _That's_ what I'm saying, and I'm really uncomfortable saying it," he added with a laugh. "He doesn't think much of himself because of his lycanthropy. Just look how Tonks had to deal with Lupin."

Hermione frowned. "But Professor Lupin and Tonks are really happy."

"Exactly. I think you and Remus could be too. But he's not going to be the first to suggest it."

* * *

Her heart was racing and pounding so hard she could barely hear her own thoughts over the individual beats thumping in her ears.

"Come on, Hermione, you fought Death Eaters for goodness' sake. And faced a three-headed dog and Umbridge, not to mention Professor Snape on a nearly daily basis for five years. You've very nearly looked a basilisk in the eye. Granted that wasn't the best of circumstances, but it all worked out well in the end didn't it?"

She continued rambling, pacing in front of the basement door, waiting for Lupin, Sirius, and Remus to arrive before moonrise. "You can do this, you can do this."

One floor up, Remus sat on the stairs and sighed as he overheard Hermione working herself into a bit of a frenzy.

He had been a tense mess for days now, even before his unfortunate encounter with Draco. A long, hot shower earlier had helped loosen his muscles and relieve a bit of the tension, as did a few extra minutes in said shower with a properly cast Silencing Charm on the door so he could feel free to wank in privacy. Even _that_ did not completely take the edge off, but then again, nothing ever really did. Some moons were worse than others for no particular reason, it seemed, and this one was looking to be rather uncomfortable.

As a last resort, Sirius had handed him two fingers of firewhisky with a Wolfsbane chaser, and Remus took comfort in the slow burn of the alcohol as he tried to forget the disgusting taste of the potion.

"You ready to go, mate?"

"What's wrong with Hermione?" Lupin asked, following behind Sirius, overhearing the witch muttering to herself.

"I think . . ." Remus nervously began. "I think she's angry with me over what happened with Draco the other day. Merlin . . . I rubbed my cheek on her face," he said, redness flushing across his pale skin at the admission.

Lupin's eyes widened at that news, and he stared at Remus incredulously. Though he had been told about the altercation between Remus and Draco, this bit of information had not been given to him as the story was retold. "You scent marked her?"

Remus nodded, his face buried in his hands.

Lupin cleared his throat. "Well . . . that's . . . something," he managed to say, shrugging his shoulders helplessly when Sirius rolled his eyes at him. "Look, I'm sure she's not mad. If anything, she might have questions. Now isn't the best time as you don't have, well, _time_. It's very unlikely she's angry with you over something you couldn't control. You _couldn't_ control it, right? I mean, you didn't scent mark her on purpose, did you?"

"No!" Remus exclaimed, staring up at the man, humiliation easily read in his eyes. "This is embarrassing."

"Best get it over with, mate," Sirius suggested, clapping Remus on the shoulder gently as the boy stood to head down to the basement.

When they turned the corner, Remus smiled anxiously as Hermione paced back and forth in front of the door.

"Worrying a hole in the carpet there, kitten," Sirius said with a grin.

Hermione jumped, startled, and then turned to smile awkwardly. "Yes, er . . . sorry. I umm . . . I was waiting to talk to Remus."

Lupin frowned. "Now's not the best time, Hermione."

"It won't take long, I swear."

Lupin nodded, patting Remus on the back. "We'll see you down there. Don't take long," he warned, and then followed Sirius into the basement, closing the door behind him.

Remus frowned, brows furrowed together in consternation. "Hermione, I know I apologised for you needing to stop me from hurting Draco, and I know that you can take care of yourself, and you don't need someone fighting your battles, but I should have also apologised for—"

"Stop talking," she said, stepping closer to him.

_Very close._

Remus felt a swooping sensation in his stomach, and the heat radiating off of his skin at her proximity was practically visible. His heart pounded hard, a rhythmic beat beneath his skin. He wondered what shade of colour his eyes were, considering the way she seemed to stare up into them, never breaking her gaze. She nervously licked her lips, and he struggled not to pounce on her. So very grateful for the firewhisky earlier that numbed him a bit, Remus was using every bit of effort he had not to grab her, pin her to the wall and . . . and what?

He panicked and stepped back. "Hermione, I—"

"Moon's coming, I know. I just have to . . . Tonks said tonight would be the best chance if I wanted . . . without you running away and being stupidly noble and . . ."

He stared down at her in confusion, and his eyes widened in anticipation and panic when she flung her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his.


	16. Chapter 16

**August 28th, 1996**

So close to moonrise, Remus felt little other than the building anxiety and fear, knowing that agony was surely coming. He did not have time to feel the individual aches and pains that led to the final few minutes before his transformation or the way his individual senses heightened to a painful level.

But Remus felt this kiss.

Felt it digging its way down into his lungs when he breathed in through his nose, not stupid enough— _innocent_  enough—to risk breaking away from Hermione's lips just for air. He  _felt_ the kiss. Felt that it had a heartbeat of its own, keeping in time with his. He felt the kiss burning behind his eyes, in the back of his brain, and the back of the brain of the wolf that he was certain was a secondary personality—no matter how many times Sirius insisted that he and the wolf were one in the same and that Remus just needed to embrace his "inner beasty." He felt the kiss lingering in his earlobes and tingling in his toes and at the tip of the tail that wouldn't even magically emerge for another twenty minutes.

The kiss created a flood of warmth in places no girl had touched since he'd been foolish enough to go behind the Hogwarts greenhouses with Florence Fortescue some months and— _technically_ —twenty years ago. Even then, he hadn't felt . . .  _this_. Felt like a human and an animal all at once and not hate himself for it.

How could he hate himself for  _this_? She'd  _wanted_ this,  _initiated_ this, and who was  _he_ to tell her she was stupid for wanting something when she was the brightest . . . when she was Hermione. Hermione who cried over an Exceeds Expectation in Defense. Hermione who smiled every single time she walked into the library. Hermione who owled him multiple times a day for a month when they'd been apart, baked him cookies, rubbed his eyebrows and forehead and . . . and kissed him knowing exactly who and what he was. He'd never known anyone as brilliant or beautiful or wonderful.

He wanted to get lost in her kiss.

And he did.

Every inch of him was lit up with fire. Whatever innocent plans Hermione  _might_ have had were par for the course as Remus moved his hands around to her back and pulled her snug against his body before turning and pinning her between his chest and the wall. She made a noise that teased the wolf like the sound of an injured animal somewhere in the distance, calling out to him.

_Taunting, tempting, teasing._

Instead of a whimper of pain, however, she moaned when he coaxed her mouth open with his lips and then swept his tongue inside. He growled with delight when she shivered at the contact, threading her fingers through his hair and holding him close to her.

When she broke away from his mouth to gasp for air, Remus attached his lips to her pulse point as if by instinct, and Hermione made a squeaking noise of surprise at the contact. It was just loud enough to distract the wolf, and Remus was able to override his baser instincts and step back, separating himself from Hermione by several feet.

He drew his attention to the floor while he tried to catch his breath, knowing that he couldn't look up at her. Her lips would be swollen and her eyes dilated, and he'd never be able to stop if . . . "I'm sorry," he said as though it were a habit by now. "I shouldn't have presumed."

"Presume away," Hermione said, grinning. "You did nothing wrong.  _I_  kissed  _you_."

"Why?" Remus asked, genuinely confused.

Hermione chuckled, pink settling into the apples of her cheeks. "I'd rather thought that bit was obvious."

He chanced it and looked at her face, watching the lovely flush rise up her slender neck, partially obscured by the locks of honey brown hair that swept over her shoulder. He wanted to bury his nose in that hair immediately; his hands were shaking as he willed himself not to. Never before in his life had he been more grateful that he'd taken a few extra precautions before the full moon: a hot shower, a good wank, a gulp of firewhisky, and Wolfsbane Potion. The perfect combination to give him the edge of control he needed to keep the wolf in line.  _The wolf._  The constant reminder in the back of his mind that triggered his ever fluctuating self-esteem.

Remus frowned as she continued to smile and blush at him. "But, I'm a—"

"A wonderful person who is kind and thoughtful and . . ." she began to say as her eyes raked over his body, "so very . . ." she said in a mild daze as she smiled at the way he stood there, awkwardly toeing the ground without knowing how utterly beautiful he was, "and . . . and yes, you are a werewolf. And I quite fancy you."

She fancied him. Not fancied him despite his condition. She knew about the lycanthropy and . . . and still . . . Remus swallowed hard. "I . . . I have to . . ." he gestured to the door.

"I know," Hermione said and made to step closer.

Remus held a hand up to stop her. "Not that I'm not . . . because I  _am_. . . gods, I really,  _really_ am," he said with a groan. "But . . . if I don't leave right this very moment, I don't think I ever will, and that will be very,  _very_ bad here in just a few minutes. Please don't think I . . ." he said and then stopped, trying to think of how to apologise for crossing lines while simultaneously begging her not to leave, not to abandon him.

She smiled softly. "I'll be here in the morning," she said, and it was more than stating the obvious. It was a promise. She didn't regret it, and she wanted to see him,  _be_ with him. She was saying goodnight to the wolf and wanted to say good morning to the man. "Go," she encouraged him.

* * *

Hours later, long into the night, Hermione sat awake. She snuggled up on a couch in the library with a copy of  _Advanced Transfiguration_  in her lap, her fingers darting to her lips every few minutes and smiling as the memory of the kiss remained behind.

She'd been kissed before, certainly.

There was a Muggle boy during the Summer between second and third year that she'd met while vacationing with her parents in France. She'd fumbled with the language, he had flirted, and she was pretty certain he compared her hair to some sort of flower at one point, which was ridiculous. She had been grateful for the language barrier because she knew that had he said something similar in English, she would have likely corrected him. The kiss then was sweet and perfectly innocent and had made both of them blush.

A neighbour Muggle boy she'd known growing up had cornered her between their houses when she'd gone home the Summer before fourth year. His advances were unprovoked and unwanted, but he was larger and physically stronger than her, and she wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school. He'd put his tongue in her mouth, and she half thought about biting it off before she decided to knee him in the groin instead, thinking that Ginny would be quite proud of her. When he fell over in pain and called her a frigid bitch, she took it as a compliment and couldn't help but grin at the sight of him crying on the ground. It feels eerily similar to when she had punched Draco Malfoy months earlier. She began to make a mental list of things she could do to avoid resorting to violence in the future, or at the very least, not get a power high when her hand was forced.

Then there was Viktor.

Viktor Krum was something else entirely. He thought she was beautiful and smart, and he had told her that he appreciated her intelligence as well as the fact that she wasn't some simpering little twit who licked at his heels and begged for his attention night and day. Viktor had been sweet and gentlemanly with her, and it wasn't until Ron had thrown a fit and ruined the Yule Ball, that Hermione had thought more of Viktor than a passing fancy.

But she had been angry and felt like she needed to make a point to Ron and all the other boys who passed her over in favour of the other girls at Hogwarts—or gaping at the visiting Beauxbatons witches—and Viktor was often stressed due to the Triwizard Tournament and the pressure his school and headmaster were putting on him. Hermione knew about pressure. So they both seemed to silently agree to relieve their mutual stress in broom closets and the back of the library with long periods of snogging and heavy petting. When Viktor returned home to Bulgaria, and they started writing letters, he was always appropriate in their correspondence and had been incredibly gracious when Hermione told him that what they had was nice but nothing for the long term.

Remus though.

_Gods . . . Remus._

It had shocked her how quickly she fell for him. She often found herself forgetting the fact that he was the younger version of one of her most respected professors. Remus was sweet, funny, intelligent, and kind enough that she often found herself overlooking the trouble-making glint in his eye. Sometimes, however, she found herself drawn to it. Tonight had been no different.

His lips had been soft and his body had been hard, and he tasted like heat, and cinnamon, and something slightly bitter.  _Wolfsbane_ , she later assumed. It was the heat that took her by surprise despite the fact that she'd hugged him before. Kissing him, though. Kissing Remus felt like the first time she'd properly cast a spell. How she felt the magic flowing through her body, directed to and through her wand, and then her thoughts and words were formed into action.

Remus's lips felt like  _magic_.

Hermione was certain she couldn't sleep tonight even if she tried.

"Your boyfriend in the basement?" a voice broke her out of her happy place, and she looked up to see Malfoy standing in the doorway, staring down at her.

She made a mental note of where her wand was, as was habit by now, and pursed her lips. "What do you want?"

Draco sneered. "As much as Potty and Weasel like to think so, I'm not a prisoner here. I can come and go just like the rest of you."

She sighed irritably. "I meant . . . what do you want with  _Remus_?"

He raised a slender, pale eyebrow. "Well, I'd like him to not eat me if that's all right with you."

Hermione bristled in reply and made a low growling noise in the back of her throat.

Malfoy grinned. "Defensive much, Granger? Has  _your_ monthly synced up with  _his_?" Her mouth fell open, and her fists clenched, and he seemed to take notice of her reactions and contemplate the best and worst outcomes of this conversation. "Relax, I'm not going to  _out_ your pet. Especially considering I still have to share a room with the bloke for the rest of the week. That is, if he plans on returning to it. I gather he's been sleeping elsewhere the past two nights?"

She paused for a long moment and then nodded. "Here in the library."

He smirked. "A wolf after your own heart."

"What do you  _want_ , Malfoy?" she snapped angrily.

He stared at her in silence for a long while, refusing to break eye contact by pure stubborn will. After he thought about it long enough, he sighed. "To . . ." he began and then changed his mind mid-sentence. "I'm not apologising for what happened the other morning. It's not  _my_ fault that I didn't know he was a . . . you know Sirius called this a  _safe_   _house_? Fucking laughable. Two werewolves in the basement right now. That's  _not_ safe."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You don't know anything about it. Remus and Professor Lupin take every precaution. It's not his fault that you were being a prat. Harry would have hexed you for calling me names; Remus just got there first."

He shook his head. "What happens when someone pisses you off when we all go to school next week?" he asked. "I'm hardly the only person at Hogwarts that calls you Mudblood."

"Then maybe they should stop," she suggested with a glare. "Look, Remus feels bad enough about what happened the other day, can you be decent for once and just . . . not make this worse?"

He glanced down at his nails. "I don't care that he's a werewolf, Granger. I care that no one thought it important enough to tell me."

"You don't . . .  _you_ don't care?"

He shrugged. "Only inasmuch as it affects me. But as you said, they're properly leashed. Which is a hair better than the werewolf I  _used_ to live with." At her gasp and startled look, he glanced up. "What? Did you think you lot were special? Granted, you do have a matching set, but they're hardly the only lycanthropes in Britain, now are they?"

"You had . . . Volde—"

"Don't!" Draco snapped at her, his face paling even more than usual. "Don't . . . I know you Gryffindors get your jollies from saying his name, but until you can do it to his face, can you maybe respect those who  _have_ had to stand in front of him and call him 'Lord'?"

She wanted to frown but held her expression. She'd never met anyone who'd had to do such a thing, not in an official capacity at least. She'd certainly seen the effect Voldemort had on his followers, if Peter Pettigrew was anything to go by. But the Slytherin in front of her had genuine fear in his eyes. Fear and anger and . . .  _seething_ anger. "Can you  _not_ call me a Mudblood?" she offered, trying one of the boy's own House tactics.

He stiffened at the bartering chip but then nodded. "I've been . . . I'll  _try_."

She gave him a polite smile and then returned to her book, watching out of the corner of her eyes as he perused the shelves behind her. "What did the werewolf do?" she asked curiously. "The one that was in your home?"

"Stalked mostly. Threatened a lot. He might have lifted his leg on the corner of the table, I'm not entirely certain; he was hardly good company."

"How come you're nice to Remus?" she questioned.

Draco paused and then shrugged. "Maybe I'm not being nice. Maybe I just pity him."

Hermione scoffed. No. Remus didn't like pity and if the Slytherin was pitying him, she had a feeling that Remus wouldn't take too kindly to the boy at all. "Thank you, Malfoy," she said, the words feeling foreign on her tongue. "For not . . . for not making it worse for him."

He stared at her for a while, brows furrowed, before speaking. "We're not friends, Granger."

She snorted. "That's fairly obvious," she said with a laugh. "It is, however, nice not being . . . well . . . enemies."

* * *

**August 29th, 1996**

Despite getting less than a few hours of sleep the night before, Hermione woke early and sat at the foot of the stairs around the corner from the basement door, waiting. Tonks yawned as she made her way in through the front door after a night of Order work, some late night stakeout from the looks of it. The young Auror morphed her face into something more recognisable, her hair shifting to a dull, faded pink.

"Tired?" Hermione asked.

"Mmm." Tonks nodded and sat down on the step beside her. "So? How'd it go last night?" she inquired, reaching for the cup of coffee in Hermione's hands and taking a sip without asking. Hermione didn't seem to care, her mind preoccupied.

"It went . . ." she began and then blushed.

Tonks grinned, her pink hair growing brighter. "It went very well, I take it?"

" _Very_  well," Hermione said softly and stole her cup back. "I kissed him," she confessed, and Tonks smirked excitedly. "It was . . ."

"Oh, you don't have to tell  _me_ ," Tonks replied with a laugh. "Though, I won't tell you to shut up anytime soon, either."

Hermione grinned. "It was amazing. You were right. Doing that so close to moonrise caught him completely off guard. He did have a moment of regret afterward, though," she said with a small frown.

Tonks nodded. "Yeah, that'll be the sad human bit. Just ignore his pouty face long enough, and he'll get over it," she advised. "He fancies you. We can all see it. You both deserve to be young and happy and stupidly in love, snogging in broom closets at Hogwarts and shagging in the Astronomy Tower."

Hermione turned bright red at the . . . at  _all_ the suggestions. "People do that?!" Tonks laughed. "I'm adding the Astronomy Tower to my prefect rounds. That's just . . . against the rules, for one, and I don't think it would be very safe either."

Tonks chuckled. "You'd be surprised at how secure those handrails are."

Hermione's eyes widened in response, but she didn't have a chance to say anything more. The basement door opened, and Tonks stood and moved quickly around the corner, coming back a moment later with an exhausted looking Lupin at her side, one arm draped over her shoulders and leaning on her for support as she helped him up the stairs.

Hermione made to smile hello at the man, but she noticed his eyes were actually closed. She frowned wondering if Remus was in as bad of shape. She stood and turned the corner quickly, eager to check on him.

"Where are  _you_ going?" Sirius asked, when she'd nearly ran right into him. She squealed in surprise, and the man gave a throaty chuckle at her expense. "Someone's a bit jumpy this morning. Is that coffee for me?" he asked and then snatched it out of her hands. "I hope it is because you, kitten, owe me. I'm exhausted and I'm blaming you."

She frowned. "What did  _I_ do?"

"Well, I normally spend full moons lazing by the fireplace, but last night I was constantly assaulted by a werewolf pup who had far too much energy for even  _my_ liking. Do you know how hard someone has to work to annoy  _me_?" he questioned. "I forgot how bothersome he used to be during full moons when he was stupid over a witch."

Hermione blushed. "Is he okay?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

Sirius nodded and gulped down the rest of her coffee. "He's tired but otherwise unharmed. And don't think I didn't contemplate harming him. Took Moony to nip at him a bit just so he'd stop bouncing off the walls acting bloody flipperpated."

Hermione raised a brow. "Flipper? Do you mean twitterpated?" she asked and then blushed when she realised what he'd meant.

Sirius snapped his fingers and smiled. "Yes, that. From that baby deer movie."

"Bambi."

He laughed. "Lily made us watch it one Christmas. If the deer jokes were funny before . . ." he sighed nostalgically. "Wound old Prongs up good and proper," he said with a smile and then looked down at her. "You can go and see Mini Moony, he's all dressed but didn't look like he wanted to get up anytime soon."

She hesitated, staring at the open door.

"Go on," Sirius encouraged, handing the coffee cup back to her, now empty. "There's nothing that makes a good morning for a bloke than to wake up and see a pretty face," he said and chucked her chin affectionately.

Hermione made her way down the steps, grimacing a bit at the smells of the basement. Nothing overly disgusting, just musty like the smell of sweat and wet dog. Focusing her eyes in the dimly lit room, Hermione saw him in the corner, curled up on a large blanket that looked similar to the one that used to be on her bed. He was wearing loose trousers and an old faded t-shirt; one of Sirius's from the looks of it.

She spotted a small collection of empty potion phials on the floor beside him. Hermione aimed her wand at the empty cup in her hand, quietly whispering, " _Aguamenti_ ," and filling it with water. Though she was unable to use magic to change the contents to something more appealing like pumpkin juice or tea, she figured he might want to wash the taste of potions out of his mouth.

Kneeling down beside him, she gently put her hand on his shoulder, smiling when he rolled over and blinked slowly, opening his eyes to look up and offer her a tired grin. "Morning," she whispered.

"Morning," he replied and winced as he fully turned over to face her. He smiled gratefully when she offered him the water, taking a gulp and swishing it around his mouth before swallowing. "Thank you."

"Was it very bad?" she asked curiously.

He shook his head. "That Wolfsbane Potion is brilliant," he said with a small smile. "Still sore though. Feels like I've been hit repeatedly with several Bludgers. Beats waking up and feeling like I'd been mauled by . . . well . . . you get the picture."

She reached up and ran her fingers across his brow and smiled when he turned and pressed his cheek into her hand, nuzzling her palm, the wolf still lingering close to the surface. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked.

Remus looked up at her and sighed. "Maybe," he whispered and forced himself to sit up, facing her. He reached out and gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, hearing her heartbeat quicken when he touched her skin. The tips of his fingers lingered behind her ear and then moved forward, tracing the line of her jaw until he had her chin softly held between his fingers and thumb. He watched closely as she nervously bit her bottom lip and then darted her tongue out to wet the mark her teeth had left behind. He stared at her lips and then moved his gaze to her eyes, looking for approval. When she gave him an anxious smile, Remus tilted his head forward and, a thousand times softer than the night before, caressed his lips lightly against hers.

He pulled away at first and ran the pad of his thumb against her cheek before kissing her again, relishing the softness of her lips and the gentle, almost innocently teasing way she moved them against his. She stirred a want inside that reminded him of how he'd devoured her the night before. Plundering her mouth with his tongue and pressing her body against the wall. Remus pulled away at the memories.

"Last night," he said. "That was . . . I'm not normally . . . I mean, I  _try_ not to be and—"

"I liked it," she confessed. "Quite a lot, actually."

Remus exhaled sharply. "You shouldn't say things like that to me, Hermione."

"Should I want someone who has no passion then?"

Remus furrowed his brow. "Hermione, that wasn't . . . that was  _hunger_ ," he said, not knowing beforehand how she would respond to the word with darkened eyes and parted lips. "Oh Merlin," he groaned. "I meant . . . I'm dangerous. I'm . . . hell, I don't know what I'm doing when it comes to you."

She smiled sweetly. "Me either. I like learning new things."

He sighed and pressed his forehead against hers, breathing in her scent and letting it wash over him like a Calming Draught. She moved her body closer, gravitating toward him, and he couldn't understand how she could do that, knowing what he was, what he'd been not hours earlier. Her trust in him was heart stopping. "Are you . . . are you certain? You could have just about any bloke you—"

Hermione snorted. "Have you  _met_ me? Not that you're my backup plan or anything like that, Remus, because you're not. But I'm hardly a prize."

His brows furrowed in irritation. "You're brilliant," he said.

"A know-it-all."

"You're fierce."

She scoffed. "Bossy."

"You're beautiful."

She swallowed hard and frowned.

He tilted her chin back in his direction and caught her gaze. "Hermione, you're . . . utterly bewitching."

The word stirred something in her, and she smiled up at him, the blush returning to her cheeks. "I've been advised not to let you go, no matter what nonsensical reasons you come up with. Besides, I'm brilliant. You said so yourself. Anything you say, I imagine I can counter."

He smirked. "I don't think I intend on arguing with you."

"No?"

"Not today," he replied and kissed her again.


	17. Chapter 17

**August 31st, 1996**

The days after the full moon for Remus involved a lot of rest, knowing that he wouldn't be able to properly get any once he and the others went to Hogwarts. With the Weasleys back at the Burrow, Remus moved back into Harry's room instead of taking the extra bed in the room with Draco, still guilty and uncomfortable around the Slytherin after attacking him days earlier. Draco seemed to pick up on Remus's discomfort and decided to have a bit of fun with him, following him around the house and looking angry until he cracked, which he did the night before they were due to head to King's Cross.

"Look . . . I know you're pissed, and . . . and you know my secret. Can I just ask that you not tell anyone when we get to school?" he pleaded, guilt heavy in his gaze which awkwardly flickered back and forth from Draco to the floor. "I swear, I'm not usually like that but . . . when you called Hermione a—"

"I didn't mean to," Draco said, interrupting him. "Don't get me wrong, I'll probably call her other names. Bookworm, know-it-all, swot, and the like. The Mudblood thing," he said, noting the way that Remus's nostrils flared, "well . . . old habits die hard, I suppose."

Remus nodded in understanding and swallowed hard. "I'm truly sorry about . . . what happened."

Draco stared at him in silence for a long minute and then sighed dramatically. "I'll forgive you on one condition," he said and Remus looked up, raising a brow and looking hopeful but suspicious. "Keep those wolf ears open for me when we get to school. I trust most of the members of my  _own_ House, even with everything that's happened. But I don't trust anyone else," he said firmly. "I don't know if Granger's leant you her copy of  _Hogwarts, A History_ , but people generally don't like Slytherins."

Remus smirked.  _As though Hermione would willingly part with that book_ , he thought to himself. "I hear Slytherins don't like the other Houses, either."

"Not usually," Draco replied. "But then again, you're not in one of the other Houses yet, are you?" Remus only smiled in reply before the blond continued, "So . . . a mutually beneficial acquaintance is established  _prior_ to the sorting. Nothing wrong with that."

"Mutually beneficial acquaintance sounds an awful lot like blackmail to me," Remus pointed out. "I'll keep my ears and eyes open for you, but you've got to keep my secret  _and_ be nice to Harry, Ron, and Hermione."

Draco's eyes widened, and he looked utterly horrified by the suggestion. "Granger only," he countered. "And by being nice, I won't actively torment her. She hasn't been so bad this summer. For a Muggle-born."

They shook on it and Remus smirked, a part of him wondering what James would say if he knew that he'd just willingly befriended a Slytherin, and the son of Lucius Malfoy at that.

* * *

**September 1st, 1996**

Hermione was up and awake before the rest of the house, or so she thought. Stepping into the kitchen, she smiled at the sight of her . . . what was he?  _Friend? Boyfriend?_  She swallowed nervously as the words played over and over in her mind as she looked at Remus's back. The tight-fit shirt he wore looked like it had been one of Sirius's old ones; a band logo was printed on the back, and it looked like it had even been autographed at some point, but had been washed repeatedly since then.

"Morning, Hermione," he said without turning around.

She smirked. "How did you know I was there? I thought I was so quiet."

He looked over his shoulder and grinned at her, reaching up to touch the side of his nose with his index finger. She blushed, and he chuckled.

"So, I smell, do I?" she asked teasingly as she closed the door behind her, moving near him but hopping up on the counter instead of standing too close, eager to observe what he was cooking at the stove.

Remus scoffed. " _Everyone_  has a smell," he said. "Not necessarily a bad thing." He looked back at her and smiled, stepping to the side so that she could see what he was doing. Pancakes sizzled in the cast iron pan, batter bubbling on the top and the edges turning a golden crisp. "You like pancakes?" he asked.

Hermione smiled and nodded.

"Then you'll  _love_ these," he grinned and reached into a nearby bowl, throwing several chocolate chips and blueberries onto the cooking batter. "My Mum's recipe. Used to make them for me whenever I was sick."

"Shouldn't you be eating more protein?" she asked curiously. "The full moon was just a few days ago."

He turned and looked at her, raising a brow. "You sound like Sirius," he said and then paused his movements, looking at her suspiciously. "Did he give you a list?"

Hermione smiled. "A How-To Guide for taking care of my very own werewolf," she said without thinking and then widened her eyes when he blinked at her in surprise. She looked away, slightly mortified and buried her face in her hands until she heard him chuckle.

"Your  _very own_?" he asked, and she looked up to see him standing suddenly right in front of her, his stomach pressed against her knees.

Her breath caught and she noted the colour of his eyes was a mossy green; she'd half expected to see gold with the look he was giving her, but the colour only made the warmth in her cheeks intensify. "If . . . if that's all right with you," she said nervously.

Remus smiled softly, actually thinking about the implication before he quietly spoke. "I've never . . . never  _belonged_ to anyone before," he said, and before she had a chance to rephrase the statement, he continued, "I think I'd like that very much. Does that mean . . . you're mine as well?"

Hermione did her best not to react like the other girls her own age. Lavender and Parvati would have giggled loudly and made a scene. She didn't want to be like that, but she struggled not to let the happy butterflies in her stomach burst out of her. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth and then smiled. "Only if you don't let those pancakes burn."

Remus's eyes widened; distracted by her, he'd forgotten about breakfast. Turning on the spot, he moved to flip the pancake over, slightly burning his fingertips in the process. "Ah, piss it!" he muttered, smiling still because Hermione was laughing. "Well, that's done then," he said with a sigh and turned off the flame on the stove, laughed, and then ran a hand through his hair. "How does cereal sound?"

As she laughed harder, Remus grinned and stepped back in front of her, not thinking much of it when her thighs parted allowing him to step between them and wrap his arms around her waist. She stopped laughing and only smiled, looking slightly hesitant.

"Am I pushing my luck here?" he asked sincerely.

She shook her head, draping her arms around his neck and leaning forward to press her lips against his. It was sweet and innocent and just a touch hesitant at first, but he smelled warm and clean and tasted like berries and chocolate, making her suspect that he'd been eating whilst cooking. She half expected something more forceful or rough, considering the circumstances of their  _first_ kiss, but days after the full moon, Remus was himself again, only mildly affected by his lycanthropy.  _Just a normal boy_ , she thought to herself with a smile.  _Normal, but special_.

Remus sighed irritably and pulled away from her, looking annoyed.

Hermione frowned. "Is . . . did I do something—"

"Not  _you_ ," he promised just as the kitchen door opened, and Lupin stepped through, clearing his throat loudly.

"Don't mind me," Lupin said, purposely avoiding looking at the couple. "Just left my book here." He reached forward to snatch up the well-worn text, moving to dart back out the door when he turned around, eyes drawn to the stove. "Is that . . . ? Are you making Mum's pancakes?" he asked, completely ignorant to the position the teenagers were in.

Hermione slid down off the counter and tried to rush away, but Remus blocked her path, clearly not wanting her to leave.

"Careful," Remus cautioned Lupin. "Pan's still hot."

Lupin ignored the boy and reached forward to grab at the burnt pancake, hissing when his fingers touched the cast iron. "Ah, piss it!" he yelped and put his fingers in his mouth.

Hermione burrowed her face into Remus's arm to stifle her giggles.

* * *

There was no cheerful Hagrid waiting for them at King's Cross Station. Instead, two grim-faced, bearded Aurors in dark Muggle suits moved forward the moment the cars stopped and, flanking the party, marched them into the station without speaking.

Draco had left earlier, saying a private goodbye to his mother before a Ministry car took him on his own to King's Cross, accompanied by Tonks who appeared delighted to have some bonding time alone with her little cousin. Draco appeared less than thrilled.

"Quick, quick, through the barrier," Molly said, ushering the children onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

Harry went first, escorted by one of the surly-looking Aurors, who kept a hand wrapped around his upper arm. Harry shouted, "I can walk, thanks!" before Sirius stepped in, shoving the Auror aside and putting an arm around the boy, muttering angrily about Ministry officials.

The Weasley family followed close behind, Ron pushing his trolley, trying not to laugh at Ginny who had her hair pinned up in curls. She'd been fuming when they had arrived at Grimmauld Place to meet up with the others, complaining about Fleur, who had been practising on the redhead in an attempt to find the right Hair Charm for her bridesmaids.

Hermione and Remus crossed the barrier with Lupin, the little witch smiling politely as her former Professor offered to push her trolley for her. That left her hands free to hold onto her bookbag, as well as Remus, who moved slowly onto the platform, one hand on the handle of his trolley, the other gently squeezing Hermione's fingers; something that none of their friends had mentioned yet, but all had quietly snickered about.

When they stepped closer to the crowd, Remus let go of her hand and purposely moved away from her. She turned and frowned at him. "Is something wrong?"

Remus shook his head. "I just . . . you don't have to be seen with me," he said. "I know back at Grimmauld Place we said—"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Do you not want to be seen with me?"

"Merlin, of course I do," he insisted. "I just . . . they're going to find out what I am, Hermione," he said quietly so that only the two of them could hear.

She pursed her lips angrily. " _Who_  you are, Remus Lupin," she snapped at him. "You are a  _who_ , not a  _what_. And I find myself quite proud to hold your hand and be seen with you and let people think that I'm your . . ." she started to say but then stopped. "Well, we haven't exactly spoken about it and all, but I had thought—"

"You're mine," he whispered and stepped into her personal space, taking her hands in his. "Call yourself whatever you'd like, but if you're not embarrassed of me, then I'll happily tell anyone who asks that you're my girlfriend."

She had to bite down on her lip to hold back the grin that threatened to overtake her face entirely. "I have to go to the prefect's carriage first," she said. "But find a compartment with Harry and Ginny. Ron and I will come and find you all after our meeting."

Remus allowed himself to smile brightly when she stood up on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek, in front of everyone who may or may not have been looking, before rushing onto the train.  _Proud_ , he thought wistfully. She said she would be  _proud_ to hold his hand and be seen with him.

The Weasleys said goodbye to their children, and Remus followed Lupin who was helping a few other parents get their children's trunks on board. Sirius was nearby, crushing Harry in a tight hug, ignoring the people whispering around at the sight of the pair.

"—him, isn't it? Sirius Black."

"Wasn't he a murderer?"

"Don't be stupid, don't you read the paper?"

"Innocent, I read—"

"—Harry Potter's godfather, too. Quite the pair."

"—calling him the Chosen One. What d'you think that means?"

Remus groaned at the whispers and mutterings coming from students and parents alike. He watched, a bit protectively, as Sirius said goodbye to Harry and looked on as the boy stepped onto the train. While Lupin was busy, Remus walked over and put a hand on Sirius's shoulder. "I'll look after him," he promised.

"I know you will," Sirius said. "Let him look after you as well, yeah?"

Remus nodded. "It's not the same."

"Nothing is, mate," Sirius replied and then cleared his throat, wiping away the sad look on his face for something more amused and obviously forced. "Right then. Off you go, Mini-Moony. Write to us often, yeah? I know it'll be . . . it won't be like it was with the four of us back in school. But you're not alone. They can't be with you in the Shack, but they'll be there whenever else you need. Plus, you've got a girlfriend now," he said with a grin, and Remus blushed. "Oh, don't be like that. If anyone deserves a good snog once in awhile, it's you. Just, er . . . watch the calendar."

Remus rolled his eyes at the implication. As though he needed a reminder to be careful with Hermione around the full moon. "Professor Snape will still be making my potion?" he asked nervously.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, fucking git. You owl me right away if he causes you any problems. Harry too. Kid's as stubborn as his parents. Went months last year with Umbridge and didn't say two words about it other than she was a right pain. No mention of detentions or what she was doing. You'll let me know if and when something happens, right?" he asked, though it didn't feel much like a question.

Remus smiled. "Right. I am my brother's son's keeper and all," he said with a laugh.

"Good mate," Sirius replied. "Now, I've left something in your trunk for you. Take it into the Shack if you need. It should help."

Remus raised a curious brow. "What is it?"

Sirius smirked. "Hermione's pillow case."

Lupin approached, placing a hand on Remus's shoulder as the boy turned scarlet. "You should get on soon or you'll be late. Just umm . . . be careful and . . . and write."

"You too," Remus said, and the pair awkwardly hugged goodbye.

He blended into the crowd easily enough. Most students were too busy trying to locate their friends, searching for potentially missing items from their trunks, wrangling loose familiars, and whispering to one another about Harry Potter being the supposed Chosen One.  _Lovely_ , Remus thought as he rolled his eyes, doing his best to hide the fact that he was sniffing the air in hopes of searching out Harry quickly, not in the mood to search every compartment.

He passed by Draco walking with a black-haired girl, both wearing their prefect badges, but barely paid them any attention, knowing that it wouldn't do for either to openly acknowledge their friendship—or whatever they were calling it—and risk more attention being drawn to themselves.

Eventually, Remus found a compartment near the back with Harry, Neville, and Luna already inside. "All right, Harry?" he asked.

Harry snorted. "It's mental out there," he said bitterly. "You hear what they're saying?"

"Pay them no mind, mate," Remus said and then smiled up at the other two. "Luna, Neville, how was your summer?"

Luna smiled up at him, clutching a magazine to her chest; large letters on the front announced that there was a pair of free Spectrespecs inside. "Hello, Remus Lupin. I had a wonderful summer. Daddy was excited to hear all about the Department of Mysteries. He's certain that Unspeakables are really vampires, you know."

He smiled awkwardly and looked at Harry, who was just shaking his head as if to say "Don't ask". Taking a seat beside Neville, he grinned at the boy. "Is that your new wand?" he asked, looking down at the bit of wood in Neville's hands.

"Cherry and unicorn hair," Neville said proudly. "You were right about a wand of my own working better. When I was able to cast inside the wand shop, it was easier than ever! Gran thinks it was one of the last Ollivander ever sold, he vanished next day—Oi, come back here, Trevor!" he shouted and then dived under the seat to retrieve his toad.

"Are we still doing D.A. meetings this year, Harry?" Luna asked.

Harry shrugged. "Not much use now since Umbridge is gone."

"I liked the D.A.," Neville said, rubbing his head after he bumped it on the way back to his seat, toad firmly clutched in hand. "I learned loads with you. Better than anyone else that taught us . . . er . . . you know," he said, turning red as he looked at Remus. "Except Professor Lupin, of course."

Remus snorted. "You won't offend me, Neville. I barely know the man," he said and threw Harry a look when the boy laughed at the irony.

There was a disturbance outside their compartment door; a group of fourth-year girls was whispering and giggling together on the other side of the glass.

" _You_  ask him!"

"No,  _you_!"

"I'll do it!"

And one of them, a bold-looking girl with large dark eyes, a prominent chin, and long black hair pushed her way through the door. "Hi, Harry, I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane," she said loudly and confidently. "Why don't you join us in our compartment? You don't have to sit with  _them_."

Harry gave the girl a cold look. "These are my friends," he said, and she looked surprised by his reply.

"Oh, okay," she said and turned her attention to Remus. "I haven't seen you before," she pointed out.

"I'm new," he answered tersely. Like Harry, Remus was not pleased with how the girl referred to Neville and Luna. "Remus Lupin," he said, introducing himself.

Romilda's eyes widened. "What? Like the werewolf? The one who taught a few years ago?"

Remus's posture stiffened as he realised this would be one of about a hundred or more times he would need to deal with people knowing his secret— _Lupin's_  secret in this instance—and only time would tell how long Remus would last before the whole school knew what he was. "That's my dad," Remus replied.

The girls all giggled around Romilda, who looked around, shushing her friends before turning her attention back to Remus. "Nice," she said with a smirk. "And what about  _you_? Got a little wild side in the blood?" she said, batting her eyelashes at him.

Harry was laughing quietly, and Neville's mouth was hanging open at the ridiculous display. Remus sighed irritably. This was nothing he hadn't dealt with before. He only wished that he had a younger Sirius around to push the girls off onto. "I might," he said with a smirk. "You'd have to ask my  _girlfriend_."

That seemed to be deterrent enough for most of them, though Romilda just rolled her eyes and then winked at Harry once more before shutting the compartment door behind her.

"You believe that?" Remus asked, scoffing. "Nosy little—"

"You really have a girlfriend?" Neville asked curiously.

Harry smirked. "He's dating Hermione."

"Oh, I think that's a lovely pairing," Luna said with a serene smile.

Remus smiled at the girl. "What about the two of you?" he asked.

Neville blushed. "Me? Me and Luna? No . . . er . . . not that I wouldn't I just . . ."

Luna patted Neville on the shoulder. "That's all right, Neville. We're just good friends."

Remus smirked at the pair, particularly amused by the shade of red Neville was currently sporting. "Strange," he said. "I mean . . . not that you're friends. I guess I'm just used to being friends with other wizards. And they weren't short on girlfriends, mind," he said with a chuckle, earning a grin from Harry at the subtle mention of James. "New . . . school . . . it's going to take some getting used to."

* * *

The weather beyond the train windows was as patchy as it had been all summer; they passed through stretches of the chilling mist, then out into weak, clear sunlight. It was during one of the clear spells, when the sun was visible almost directly overhead, that Ron and Hermione entered the compartment at last.

"Wish the lunch trolley would hurry up, I'm starving," Ron said, slumping into the seat beside Harry and rubbing his stomach.

Remus moved over to offer Hermione a seat, and she smiled sweetly at him before sitting down, settling the cage she kept her half-kneazle in on the ground beneath the seat. Remus gave the creature a curious look, having only run across it once or twice during the summer. Crooks, as Hermione affectionately called the beast, enjoyed hunting rats and mice inside Grimmauld Place, and Sirius was more than happy to let the cat enjoy itself.

Remus fidgeted a bit, looking over at Hermione who instantly reached over and took his hand in hers, not wanting to take a step back after what they'd discussed on the platform. Remus smiled and brushed his thumb over the knuckles of her small hand, letting the warmth in his chest spread out as he marvelled at how soft her skin was.

A short time later, Harry and Neville were both summoned down the train to join Professor Slughorn for lunch. After the food trolley came by and everyone in the compartment had their fill, they sat back and enjoyed the train ride in quiet, each with a magazine or book in hand. When Neville finally returned, he cleared his throat before taking his seat.

"Harry's going to be a bit," he said nervously. "He umm . . . he took off into the Slytherin compartment."

Hermione groaned. Ron snickered.

Glancing out the window, Remus noted their location and grinned. "Are we allowed to get out and move about?" he asked as though he'd never been on the Hogwarts Express before.

"Yeah," Neville said. "As long as we're not causing trouble, you should be fine."

Remus turned to Hermione. "Care to give me a tour of the train?"

She raised a curious brow. "A tour? Remus, you've already—"

"Because I'm  _new_ ," he said pointedly. "And I've never seen the train before. Who better than a prefect to give me a tour?" he asked innocently.

Her eyes were wide and her mouth open, holding back the argument she wanted to have, but unable to as both Neville and Luna were unaware of Remus's secret. Ron, who understood what was happening, was chuckling to himself and flipping through a copy of  _Quidditch Monthly_.

"Fine," Hermione said and stood up, leading Remus outside the compartment and closing the door behind them. "What on earth are you on about?" she asked. "You very likely know this train better than I do. Who knows what kind of mischief you and Sirius got up to on here."

Remus grinned. "I know," he said and snatched up her hand, pulling her toward the back. "In fact, I happen to know that there are hidden compartments back here, left over from decades ago when they had a proper tea service aboard the train. It was closed down when the trolley lady came on, and they used them for storage afterward."

Hermione looked around nervously. "We can't go in there," she said. "Someone will see."

Remus glanced out a nearby window. "They won't," he promised. "Not in four . . . three . . . two . . . one," he said, and the aisle went completely dark as the train moved through a tunnel that Remus had known was coming. In the black, Remus tugged on Hermione's hand, pulling her into the secret compartment, sealing the door shut behind them with a flick of his wand.

When the lights came back on, his lips were already pressed against hers, her fingers pushing through his hair as his hands rested on her waist. They both sank into the kiss, lips parting and tongues exploring, teasing, taunting. Remus growled excitedly into her mouth when she pulled a touch too hard on his hair. She pulled away, wanting to apologise, but there was clearly no need as it only stoked something deep inside of him, and soon he was peppering her jaw with kisses, letting his lips linger for a moment over her pulse point.

"I . . ." Hermione began to say, blinking open heavy-lidded eyes. "I . . . am a prefect."

Remus grinned against her skin. "It's a very pretty badge," he said.

She laughed and pushed him away, smiling as she reached up and touched her thumb to his lips as she bit her own, torn between her need to follow the rules and her need for . . . for  _him_. When he kissed her thumb she sighed. "You are going to be so much trouble," she stated with a small laugh of defeat.

Remus smirked. "I hope so," he said and then slid his hands into her hair to cradle her head as he dipped down and kissed her again.


	18. Chapter 18

**September 1st, 1996**

"Harry," Hermione scolded him as he jogged up the path to catch up with his friends. "Where were you? Goodness, we've been worried sick."

He smiled an awkward apology as he approached the carriages with the rest of the group. "I was . . . checking in on Malfoy. You know, for the Order."

She shook her head. "You were spying again. Find anything of interest?"

Harry frowned. "No," he said, sounding only slightly petulant. "Just more of what Ron and I heard in Knockturn Alley. Crabbe and Goyle looked like they wanted to have a go at him, though. Nott had to remind them that they're not supposed to do anything."

Remus frowned, distracted from the conversation by Neville who was staring, slightly terrified, at the front of the carriage. "You  _see_ them?" he quietly asked the boy.

Neville jumped, startled, and nodded his head slowly to Remus. "Frightening things," he said. "I never . . . not before the Department of Mysteries. But I saw that Auror killed. Can  _you_ see them?"

Remus shook his head. "No."

"They're not so bad," Harry said, clapping Neville on the shoulder before climbing into the carriage. "Where's Luna?" he asked.

Ron scoffed. "Ran ahead and jumped in the carriage with Ginny and that tosser she's dating."

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked at Remus. "He means Dean Thomas. Who had, up until Ginny started dating him, been one of Ron's friends. Honestly, Ronald, you're being quite immature about this," she scolded, noticing the way that Harry also seemed to stiffen at the mention of Ginny and Dean.

"I'm not immature," Ron insisted, shutting the carriage door behind Hermione as Remus helped her inside. " _She's_  immature. You should have seen the things she was writing him over the summer. I didn't get a good look, mind, but I caught a few words here and there. If you had brothers, Hermione, they'd be acting the same to Remus. Honest."

She smiled and threaded her fingers through Remus's. "I'm glad then, that the closest I have to brothers are the pair of you."

Ron smirked. "Does that mean we should start a scrap with Remus?" he teased.

Remus lifted a challenging eyebrow. "Care to have a go, mate?" he teasingly asked, and both boys laughed in reply.

When they'd all been directed into the castle, Remus breathed a sigh of relief, feeling safe and properly enclosed in a place that was familiar; a place that was  _home_. The Great Hall was filled with new and old students, and Remus tucked himself into the table, ignoring the looks from Gryffindors who clearly didn't recognise him and were confused by his presence. Dumbledore had offered to have him publicly sorted during the Welcoming Feast, but Remus declined, pleading instead to tell people that he'd done so over the summer.

Though he disliked the attention, Remus did feel a bit happy about stealing away some of the unwanted focus on Harry. Apparently, a transfer student was just as interesting as the Chosen One, and Harry had been known for being surly about attention in the past; Remus, however, was an unknown.

"Are you  _really_ Professor Lupin's son?" a boy sitting next to Neville asked. At Remus's nod, the boy extended his hand and smiled. "Seamus Finnigan."

"Remus," he replied in greeting.

The boy to Seamus's right leant his head forward. "You a sixth, then?" he asked.

Remus nodded. "Yeah, did my O.W.L.s by correspondence," he lied. "My mum schooled me from home. We travelled a bit before she died."

The boy frowned. "Sorry mate, I know the feeling. My dad passed when I was just a baby," he said and then leant back around both Seamus and Neville to shake Remus's hand. "Dean Thomas."

One by one he was introduced to the Gryffindors around him, giving quiet nods of hello to the ones down the length of the table that merely waved a greeting, no one wanting to stand and leave their plates unattended. A pair of giggling girls drew his attention and he looked across the table. "Ron, who're those witches?"

"Which ones?" Ron asked in between bites of chocolate gateau.

Remus subtly gestured. "The two there. The blonde and the brunette. The ones that are staring at you."

" _Me_?" Ron's ears turned pink at the suggestion. He turned and looked down the table and both girls began giggling louder. "They're not looking at me . . . probably staring at Harry," he said and then returned his attention to his dessert, hiding the blush in his cheeks.

Hermione was chuckling softly. "Lavender and Parvati. My roommates."

"Lucky you," Remus smirked. "Will you giggle and stare at  _me_ like that?" he teased.

Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed her plate toward him, offering him the rest of her treacle tart which he decided to eat with his hands, grinning at her as she smiled and blushed when he licked the crumbs from his fingers.

"The very best of evenings to you!" Dumbledore said, smiling broadly, his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room.

Hermione gasped. "What happened to his hand?"

"It was like that when I saw him this summer," Harry said.

Remus listened closely to his friends, shocked by the fact that the blackened hand was new. Remus had seen it briefly, but since no one else had reacted to the hand before, he'd assumed it was an old injury that had taken placed likely during the First Wizarding War. "It wasn't there last term?" he asked quietly.

Hermione shook her head. "Goodness, it looks as if it's died."

"I'd have thought Madam Pomfrey would have cured whatever's wrong with it by now," Harry said.

Remus sighed heavily, his eyes drawn to the blackened hand. "Some injuries can't be cured, Harry. Certain poisons, hexes, or being hurt or attacked by a cursed item. A dagger or . . . something blunt maybe?"

"Would your dad know what's wrong with him?" Neville asked Remus.

"Maybe," Remus replied, making a mental note to write Lupin about it later on.

Dumbledore was continuing on with his speech, ignoring the whispers from the Gryffindor table. "We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn" —Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big, waistcoated belly casting the table below into shadow— "is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions Master."

" _Potions_?"

"Potions?"

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right.

Neville had lost all the colour in his face, already putting two and two together. "Oh, no," he groaned. "That means—"

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," Dumbledore raised his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"It'll be fine, mate," Remus said, patting Neville on the back as the boy leant forward, pressing his forehead against the table. Hermione reached around and moved Neville's plate out of the way so his hair didn't get covered in pudding. Remus looked up and frowned at her. "Is Professor Snape really  _that_ bad?" he asked.

"He's Neville's Boggart," she replied in a very soft whisper while frowning.

Remus's eyes widened. "What?" he paled and looked up at the high table where Professor Snape sat, glaring out into the crowd of students. Remus had felt bad for the boy he'd watched Sirius and James bully, and he wanted to make it up to the man somehow. But what on earth could Severus Snape have done to become a  _Boggart_ for a teenager? "How do you know that?"

"Professor . . . er . . . your dad," Hermione said, playing along with Remus's backstory. "Brought one in for class when he taught us. It was our first lesson with him that year. He showed us how to defeat it."

Ron snorted in amusement at the memory. "Neville dressed the Snape Boggart in his gran's clothes. Handbag and all."

"He made me test my bad potions on Trevor," Neville said with a small whimper, instinctively touching the pocket of his robes where he kept his toad. "What's he going to make me do when I can't defend myself properly, you think?"

"You can defend yourself properly, Neville," Harry insisted. "You were right there with us in the Department of Mysteries. Don't forget that." When Neville continued to frown, clearly overwhelmed by anxiety, Harry smiled at him. "I'm serious, Neville. You and I fought side by side."

The boy smiled softly at the words, and Remus was overwhelmed by Harry, who had never before looked more like James than at that moment. "You'll be fine, Neville," Remus said, patting his friend on the back. "Nothing's going to happen to you. I promise."

When Professor Dumbledore was finished with his speech, bidding the students goodnight, everyone stood to leave. Hermione and Ron took their places as prefects, directing the first year students where to go and assisting the Head Boy and Girl where needed. Remus stepped away from the table, eager to follow Harry and Neville up to Gryffindor Tower without delay. He stopped, however, when he heard his name called over the crowd, just loud enough that his lupine hearing picked up on it.

Turning, he spotted Professor McGonagall waving him over to her. He smiled at the sight of the witch and looked back to his friends. "I'll meet you guys in the common room, all right?"

Neville raised a curious brow. "Will you know how to find Gryffindor Tower?"

Remus smiled. "My dad told me how to get around when I was sorted over the summer," he said, feeling only slightly bad for lying to his new friend.

When all of the other students and staff members dispersed, the Great Hall was empty save for two people. Remus approached McGonagall, who kept her expression fairly blank as she stared at the boy. He swallowed hard and looked her over once. "You're looking well, Professor," he said. "I heard about what happened last year. I was worried," he said with a heavy frown.

McGonagall took a deep breath and then very quickly wrapped Remus up in a tight hug. "Remus Lupin," she said his name while patting him on the back. "Don't you dare tell anyone that I did this," she threatened when she pulled away, offering him a tight smile. "Oh, goodness," she said while looking at his face.

He smiled up at her, feeling the weight of the world lift off his shoulders at the comforting touch.

Her smile faded slightly, and her lips formed a tight line. "Can I trust, Mister Lupin, that without the distractions of delinquent friends, you will keep yourself out of trouble?"

His eyes twinkled as he grinned. "I solemnly swear."

* * *

"Hey Remus, you really dating Hermione, then?" Seamus asked several hours later as the boys began unpacking their trunks.

The addition of Remus's bed—positioned between Ron's and Neville's— had made the already small dorm room that much tighter of a squeeze. He unpacked his trunk, frowning a touch at all the new things inside it. He'd never had  _new_ things at the start of school before; his parents couldn't afford new things. Sirius and James often purchased him stuff from time to time, but they knew he felt uncomfortable about charity. It appeared that the  _older_ version of Sirius Black had no qualms about spoiling his young friend. New clothes, books, quills, and inkwells. A new cauldron and potion equipment, as well as the new robes that Hermione said he looked smart in.

He looked up at his roommate and smiled. "I am dating Hermione. Is there a problem?" he asked curiously.

Seamus grinned. "Blimey. She dated Viktor Krum, didja know that?" he asked, a tone of awe as though Remus dating Hermione, who dated a Quidditch star, suddenly made Remus a very important wizard indeed. "Have you shagged her yet?"

"Oi!" Harry and Ron both shouted, the latter throwing a roll of balled up socks at the boy. "That's Hermione you're talking about!" Ron snapped.

Seamus snorted. "You're just mad 'cause you're still single and wanking it alone, mate," he said with a laugh. "Now  _me_? I had plenty of girls back home over the summer. Muggles are a proper delight, let me tell you."

Remus rolled his eyes, too easily reminded of Sirius. He figured in the future, if he had issues with witches like he had before, he would just gently push them in Seamus's direction and the problem would resolve itself. "What I do or don't do with Hermione is private, thank you," Remus said.

Seamus laughed. " _Not_  getting shagged then," he said. "What about you, Dean?"

"Seamus, shut your bloody mouth!" Ron snapped loudly, red in the face.

"Damn," Harry sighed loudly. "I knew I'd forget something."

Remus looked up. "What'd you forget?"

Harry sighed. "Socks. Only packed one," he said and held up a singular black sock.

Remus chuckled and stood, walking over to Harry's bed and snatching the sock from his hand. "Pe—" he began to say but then stopped mid-name and sighed. "Er . . . one of my friends from . . . from back home used to have a problem like that. Here," he said and then pointed his wand at the sock. " _Geminio_!" The sock in his hand magically duplicated.

Harry grinned. "That's brilliant!"

Remus smiled. "It's a helpful charm to know. It wears off after a while. A Stasis Charm should make it last a week. Long enough for Sirius to send you your things."

"Can this work on  _anything_?"

Remus nodded. "Yeah, everything except money. Goblins have that spelled special so it won't work. But I had a  _friend_ who used to do it on stuff he'd stolen from his parents, then he'd go into shops and sell it for money," he pointed out. "Highly illegal, but then again so were some of the things he'd stolen from his parents," he said, thinking of the dark artefacts Sirius had found among his mother's possessions whenever he went home for hols. "It works for clothes, books, quills, all sorts of small things. Don't do it to food, though. You'll eat it and then it'll vanish from your stomach and you're just as hungry as you were before."

* * *

**September 2nd, 1996**

Sitting at breakfast with the rest of the Gryffindors, Remus almost felt normal. More than once, he fully expected to hear James flirting with Lily down at the end of the table, or watch as Peter laughed at Sirius's attempts to pin his hair on top of his head in a messy bun with his wand. He found it hard to be sad when he remembered they weren't there, though, because his new friends were so inclusive that he had little time to focus on the past.

"I feel terrible," Harry muttered with a guilty expression. "Hagrid's going to be upset. Maybe I should take Care of Magical Creatures. It wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

Hermione and Ron stared at him. "Harry, you're already taking five N.E.W.T. classes, you don't need to be distracted by anything that doesn't push you toward your goals."

Ron smirked. "What's your timetable look like, Hermione?"

"Hush you," she said scoldingly.

Harry sighed. "One of us should take Care of Magical Creatures."

When all eyes fell on Remus, he snorted. "Not me," he insisted. "I got decent marks for it on my O.W.L.s but the last thing I need is for the rest of the school to associate me with magical creatures."

They finished the rest of their breakfast just as Professor McGonagall approached them, handing out timetables for the year. The distribution of class schedules was more complicated than usual, for Professor McGonagall needed first to confirm that everybody had achieved the necessary O.W.L. grades to continue with their chosen N.E.W.T.s.

"Miss Granger," McGonagall said, handing Hermione her schedule, taking notice of the fact that she had to release Remus's hand in order to snatch the parchment. "You've been cleared for Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Potions."

Ron gaped at her. "Bloody hell, 'Mione," he said and then looked up sheepishly at Professor McGonagall who tutted at him for his language before handing over his schedule.

"Mister Weasley, you and Mister Potter are both cleared for Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration, and Potions. Are you still interested in becoming an Auror?" she asked, directing her question to Harry.

"Yes, Professor," he said, accepting his schedule with a polite smile.

Remus looked up expectantly at the older witch and he could almost see her smile at him.

"I was surprised with the choices you've made, Mister Lupin. I would have expected you to continue on in Care of Magical Creatures and History of Magic," she said thoughtfully.

Remus smirked, assuming by her tone that his older self had done exactly that. He remembered planning out his N.E.W.T.s even before taking his O.W.L.s. Like Hermione, Remus had wanted to make a point to the rest of the school and, honestly, the entire Wizarding World. If he could achieve the highest of scores in all of his subjects, perhaps people wouldn't look down on him so much for being a werewolf. However, he'd heard about—and also seen—the way Lupin's life had turned out, regardless of how many N.E.W.T.s he received. With the Ministry pulling back limitations for werewolves—at least for the time being—not to mention having the support of his friends and even a girlfriend, Remus was looking toward the future with hope.

"I want to be a Curse-Breaker," he told McGonagall who raised her eyebrows in amusement. "I . . . I met one this summer," he said, speaking of Bill Weasley, "and I've always had an interest. I've the proper O.W.L. scores for it. I only need a passing score in Arithmancy," he said, knowing that he'd done well enough in the class, but wouldn't be continuing with it, instead choosing to focus on the  _required_ N.E.W.T.s for the career. "But I'd very much like to continue with the other classes."

The corners of her mouth tilted up as she handed over Remus's timetable. "You've been cleared for Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, and Potions. Good luck, Mister Lupin."

He took the schedule with a smile and looked to Hermione who was gathering up her belongings.

"Come on, Remus, we don't want to be late for Runes," she said, ignoring Ron who was boasting about the amount of free periods he had in his schedule. She reached for Remus's hand once she'd slung her book bag over her shoulder, and he grinned and aimed his wand at it, adding a Featherweight Charm. She smiled sweetly at him and blushed when he finally took her hand, bringing the back of it to his lips for a chaste kiss before lacing his fingers through hers.

* * *

Ancient Runes was as difficult and fast paced as he'd predicted, but he was actually excited about the coursework. It helped that Hermione's enthusiasm for learning practically seeped out of her pores, infecting anyone within a ten-metre radius, the professor included.

Professor Babbling was a stern older woman that Remus remembered as one of his teachers from the 1970's, though she'd never before smiled at him in class the way she did now. Perhaps time had softened her. After setting out the syllabus for the year, as well as additional books she required of her students that hadn't been on the original list, followed by their homework assignment, Professor Babbling dismissed the class.

Before Remus could stand, she appeared at his desk, a small smile on her lips. "I have to say, Mister Lupin, I am very pleased to see that, unlike your father, you've chosen your friends wisely," she said, gesturing to Hermione.

Remus smirked, remembering that the woman had, on more than one occasion, taken points from Gryffindor thanks to Sirius and James. Neither had taken her class, but both often snuck in to flirt with the witches that did; Lily specifically. Remus, who had taken the class with the redhead, hadn't done much to dissuade his friends' antics, earning him a bit of a black spot, thus putting him on Babbling's bad side.

"I'll tell him you said so, Professor," Remus said with a grin, and the witch chuckled in reply before waving him off.

He and Hermione made their way down to the Defense classroom where a queue had already begun forming. She sunk to the floor, crossing her legs as she tried to fit her new books into her already overfilled bag. "I need to find an Extension Charm for this," she muttered in frustration.

"I could always carry your books for you," he offered with a smile.

She laughed. "Flirt."

Harry, Ron, and Neville approached, looking uneasy as they glanced at the closed classroom door. "All right, Hermione?" Harry asked, taking note of her book bag, which was almost ripping at the seams now.

"We got so much homework for Runes," she said. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations, and I've got to read these by Wednesday!" she added, gesturing to the books that she now refused to remove from her bag lest she not be able to get them back in.

Ron yawned and stretched his arms above his head. "Shame."

"You wait," she said resentfully. "I bet Snape gives us loads."

The classroom door opened as she spoke, and Snape stepped into the corridor, his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy black hair. Silence fell over the queue immediately. "Inside," he ordered.

They filed in, one by one, and Remus frowned at the look of the place. It was gloomy and lit by candles, despite the large windows that would have let natural light in had they not been covered by dark curtains. Pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts. Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy, gruesome pictures.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," Snape said, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk.

Hermione nervously put her copy of  _Confronting the Faceless_  back into her bag which immediately tore at the bottom. Before it had a chance to completely rip open, Remus aimed his wand and whispered, " _Reparo_ ," and watched as the threads of the bag knit themselves back together.

"Silence!" Snape snapped, staring at Remus specifically. "I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention. You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe. Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities," he said, pausing to look at Remus. "Some more incompetent than others." The implication was obvious, and many in the class took great offence on behalf of Professor Lupin and his—apparent—son. Remus, however, merely did his best to not roll his eyes at the dramatics. "Given this confusion, I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced."

Remus watched over the course of Snape's lecture—or posturing, he wasn't entirely certain what to call what the man was doing—and felt a mixture of guilt, anger, and pity over the clear bitterness that emanated from him, wondering if Sirius and James had really done a number on Snape when he was a boy, leading him to . . . this, or if there wasn't more to the angry wizard in front of him. One thing was certain, he did  _not_ like his students and wasn't shy about it.

"What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, making sure he had no choice, before saying curtly, "Very well—Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," she said, "which gives you a split-second advantage."

"An answer copied almost word for word from  _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six_."

In between mocking Hermione, Snape implied that Ron was lazy, that Neville was incompetent, that Harry was stupid, and at one point, he insisted that Remus stop making "moon eyes" at Hermione. Remus did his best not to laugh because, really, for werewolf insults, the man was reaching.

"You will now divide," Snape went on, "into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

The students paired off. Neither Harry nor Ron could cast non-verbally, and Ron was purple in the face from his attempts at it. Hermione paired off with another witch and, after a few minutes, smiled brightly when she was able to erect a proper shield without speaking. Snape paid little attention, which seemed to take a bit of the wind out of her sails.

"Good try, Neville," Remus told his friend as he sent a harmless Tickling Hex at his friend who continued to fail in properly blocking it. Neville sent the hex back at Remus, who blocked it non-verbally with great ease.

"How are you so good at this?" Neville asked, frowning a bit.

Remus shrugged. "I had friends back home who used to pull pranks all the time. We had to learn how to cast non-verbally very early on," he said, remembering fourth year when the four boys had sneaked into the Hufflepuff common room after one of Sirius's girlfriends gave him the password. Silently, one by one, the Hufflepuff Quidditch team had been sealed into their beds with a Sticking Charm and no one was the wiser until the team missed the early morning game the following day, only to have their Head of House report that the players had to be cut out of their bedcovers. The game had, obviously, been postponed.

"Pathetic, Weasley," Snape said, drawing Remus out of his thoughts. "Here—let me show you—"

Snape turned his wand on Harry so fast that Harry appeared to react instinctively, yelling, " _Protego_!"

The Shield Charm was so strong, that Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class had looked around and now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling. "Do you remember me telling you we are practising nonverbal spells, Potter?"

"Yes," Harry said stiffly.

"Yes,  _sir_ ," Snape corrected.

"There's no need to call me 'sir,' Professor."

Remus's eyes widened and he fought the urge to both groan at Harry's momentary idiocy, and laugh at how proud James would have been. Lily, however, would have been apoplectic. Several people gasped, including Hermione. Behind Snape, however, Ron, Dean, and Seamus grinned appreciatively.

"Detention, Saturday night, my office," Snape snarled. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter . . . not even 'the Chosen One.'" He then proceeded to ignore Harry entirely, moving through the classroom as though he'd not just been thrown into a desk.

"Lupin!" Snape sneered. "I distinctly recall instructing you to  _jinx_ your partner, not  _hex_. Do you believe that Longbottom will be well prepared by fighting off tickling?"

Remus took a breath, glad that he was almost a week removed from the last full moon otherwise he likely would have snapped at the man. As it was, Remus did his best to remain respectful. Growing up with the boy or not, the man was now his professor. "No, sir, but I thought—"

"Have you been educated in the difference between hexes and jinxes?" Snape asked. "Knockback, Impediment, Trip, or Stinging.  _All_ appropriate."

Remus frowned. "I don't want to  _hurt_ my friend. This is our first lesson in non-verbals. If we cast those jinxes at one another, all we're going to do is leave here injured with less motivation to try in the future. Wouldn't it be better to learn non-verbal shields against something non-threatening until we," and he, of course, meant  _they_ , "get the hang of how it works?"

The class was silent. Most in shock, others in awe, clearly reminded of their friendly third year Defence Professor. Harry and Hermione were both smiling proudly, Neville a little more nervously, clearly unused to being defended so openly. Snape was outright glaring at Remus as though he were the bane of his existence.

Without saying a word or even looking away from Remus, Snape aimed his wand at Neville and sent a Tripping Jinx, knocking the boy to the floor. Neville winced when he fell, forcing himself back to his feet again quickly and holding his wand out, trying to prepare for another. He swallowed hard and Remus could hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest.

"Students should not be coddled," Snape said, sending a Knockback Jinx at Neville that pushed the boy over onto his back when his non-verbal shield failed again.

Remus growled defensively. Neville was a friend and the instinct to protect him was strong, especially knowing what he now did about the boy's life. "Students should know they can  _trust_ their teachers. Not everyone learns at the same pace or the same way that—"

Snape sent another jinx at Neville, still left unblocked and both Harry and Ron were shaking with rage, looking like they were raring for a fight. A quick glance at Neville and Remus frowned. While others, Harry or Ron perhaps, would have fought back harder with every attack, using their anger to funnel their magic, Neville clearly wasn't motivated. He was looking more and more defeated with every jinx he failed to block; more terrified every time he stood back on his feet, anticipating something worse.

Remus was reminded of what he'd learned earlier about his new friend and his old rival. Boggart. It made sense now. He shook his head angrily, trying and failing to fight off his lupine instincts.  _Professors shouldn't be Boggarts._

Snape flicked his wand once more, hitting Neville with a mild Stinging Jinx in the side of the leg. Neville cried out in obvious pain and Remus flung himself between his friend and teacher and—clearly without thinking—aimed his wand at Snape and defensively muttered, " _Levicorpus_!"

The entire room full of student gasped loudly and all too quickly realising what he'd done, Remus swallowed hard and stared, horrified, into the upside-down face of the enraged Slytherin.

"Oh, shit."


	19. Chapter 19

**September 2nd, 1996**

Remus stared down at the carpet in McGonagall's office. He and Harry had been brought to Dumbledore's office first, but the headmaster had been busy and requested a meeting with Professor Snape, insisting that the boys be sent to their Head of House for proper punishment. After a Floo call to Professor McGonagall, informing her of the situation, she opened her door to look down at the pair with pursed lips and hard eyes.

Remus had seen the expression before, though usually it was reserved for James and Sirius. Now,  _he_ was the main concern, dragging Harry—who had only earned himself detentions with Snape originally—down with him.

"Assaulting a teacher," Professor McGonagall said with a tone of voice that implied shock. But her expression—if Remus was brave enough to look up at it, which he wasn't—showed nothing but severe disappointment. "Assaulting a  _teacher_ ," she repeated, clucking her tongue.

"Who was assaulting a student," Remus said, invoking a bit of boldness he'd learned from James.

McGonagall sighed in irritation. "Mister Lupin, if you think Professor Snape's actions gave you  _any_ right to—"

"I don't, Professor McGonagall," he said as he rose his gaze to meet hers. "I just . . . I'm sorry. I am  _genuinely_ sorry, I can't tell you enough, truly. I never would have thought myself capable of doing something like this but . . . I also never imagined there would be a  _teacher_ at Hogwarts who has been given permission to use magic against their own students."

Her eyes widened and her nose twitched. "I can assure you, Mister Lupin, neither Professor Snape nor any other member of Hogwarts staff has been given permission for any such thing."

He lifted his chin and held his ground. What did he have to lose? Return to Grimmauld Place with Sirius and Lupin? "He sure seems to think he's above the rules then."

McGonagall remained silent for a long moment, staring Remus down, but the boy refused to budge. Eventually, she turned her attention to Harry, who had been busy trying to rub a spot off of his shoe with the heel of the other. "Mister Potter," she said, addressing Harry, causing him to stand upright in a split second, "have you ever seen Professor Snape cause physical harm to a student before today?"

Harry couldn't help but scoff. "Outside of my Occlumency lessons?" he asked and then winced at the reproachful look he was met with. "Well, not really but—"

Remus interrupted him. "They told me that Professor Snape is Neville's  _Boggart_ ," he said. " _Physical_  harm or not, I know about Boggarts, Professor. I did a research essay on them during fourth year. To take the appearance of a person? That's . . . it's unthinkable." His posture broke, and instead of standing straight and tall, his shoulders slumped. He leant against her desk, one palm flat against the wood, his free hand emphasising the words as he spoke. "I know he's a member of the Order and, as a spy, he has to maintain a certain degree of—"

"Being horrible to people," Harry mumbled under his breath.

Remus blanched. "Yeah, that," he said. "But Hogwarts is supposed to be the safest place in the world. That's what Professor Dumbledore told me and my parents when he brought  _my_ letter. 'Don't worry, Remus will be safer at Hogwarts than anywhere else,'" he said, repeating the headmaster's words verbatim. "This is our  _home_. We're supposed to be able to  _trust_ our teachers."

McGonagall had gone from sitting forward in her chair in a stern and stiff position to leaning back with her fingers laced together across her chest, her head tilted to the side in observation of the boys. When Harry cleared his throat, she turned her attention to him. "You've something to say?"

Harry frowned and nodded, rubbing at the back of his hand anxiously. "When Professor Moody used magic against Malfoy during fourth year, you yelled at him. You didn't know he was a Death Eater in disguise at the time. And . . . and last year," he hesitated before speaking again, "Professor Umbridge used a Blood Quill to punish her students."

At the mention of the most recently released Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, McGonagall's eyes narrowed and Remus thought he heard a growl in the back of her throat. She'd never looked more like her Animagus form—not a sweet little kitty looking to play with some string, but a ferocious and untamed tabby on the hunt. "If Professor Snape or  _any_ other member of this staff  _ever_ uses magic against another student, you are given permission to report it to me immediately," she said firmly. "I will also be speaking to the Head Boy and Girl, as well as all prefects, on the matter. That being said, it does  _not_ give you permission to attack a teacher," she added, turning her attention back to Remus.

He frowned and lowered his eyes once more, feeling relieved a bit that what happened in Defence would be properly looked into and perhaps prevented from reoccurring in the future. "No, ma'am," he agreed. "I'll . . . I'll pack my things if you need."

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes and huffed loudly. "Don't be ridiculous. You'll be serving detentions with me for the next few months, Mister Lupin," she insisted. "Professor Snape requested the job himself, but I highly doubt that allowing so will repair the damage. Also, fifty points from each of you will be taken for your attacks," she said, looking angry over having to take points away from her own House, though a bit mollified when each of the boys winced at the number. "And Mister Lupin . . . ten points awarded to Gryffindor for standing up for a fellow student."

Remus looked up, utterly shocked. He pressed his lips tightly together to avoid saying anything more, but just nodded his head gratefully, glad that she truly understood where he had been coming from.

Harry took a chance. "What about me?"

Remus closed his eyes and fought the urge to laugh.

McGonagall made that growling sound again. "Five points for your cheek and, as it will serve no purpose in writing letters to both of your guardians," she said and Remus  _did_ snort then, "I will send a letter to Molly Weasley should anything further take place. I'm to understand she has quite the fondness for Howlers. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Professor," they said simultaneously, each hanging their head in shame.

She nodded stiffly. "Then out with you," she said as she pressed a rolled scroll of parchment in Harry's hand without another word and shooed them out of her office.

Harry laughed in shock and Remus let out a heavy breath and bent over, hands on his knees. "I can't believe I'm still in school," he said, feeling guilty because a part of him wasn't actually surprised considering nothing had happened when he'd almost killed the teenaged Snape during a full moon. Clearly, discipline hadn't increased over the years.

"Don't feel too bad for getting off with only detentions," Harry told him. "Expelling us would mean that McGonagall wouldn't be able to lecture us every day, and I think she really likes doing so. Besides, Ron and I flew a car into a tree once during second year, and we only got . . ." he trailed off, opening the note that McGonagall had handed him.

"What's that?" Remus asked as Harry read the note.

Harry grinned. "Dumbledore wants to start private lessons with me this Saturday. Looks like I won't have to serve detention with Snape this weekend, after all."

Remus shook his head in exasperation. "You're way too smug about that, mate."

* * *

When Harry and Remus made it back to the common room for the remainder of their free period, Hermione was already off in Arithmancy. Remus was relieved, not wanting to see the look of disappointment on her face so soon after having been scolded for his actions by McGonagall. Harry and Ron stayed downstairs to wait on Hermione before starting Snape's homework, while Remus made his way up the stairs to the dorm rooms, needing to write Sirius and Lupin to let them know what had happened.

He smiled awkwardly when he spotted Neville in the room.

The boy sat up from his bed and frowned. "Did you get in very much trouble?"

Remus offered him a kind smile. "Not so bad. Detentions with McGonagall. I shouldn't have jinxed a teacher, but . . . I don't regret standing up against what he was doing," he admitted.

Neville frowned, looking guilty. "I'm used to it."

Remus sighed and walked to his own bed, falling down on the mattress and rubbing his forehead. "You shouldn't be," he said angrily. "Sorry, I . . . look, I had three friends back where I grew up and they were really good friends, two of them at least," he added quietly, "but they weren't very nice to . . . some people, and it turned out very bad in the end." A series of memories flashed in the back of his mind and all of them were about James and Sirius and Peter doing something awful to Snape. From day one, they'd had it out for one another, and Snape usually gave back as good as he got, but it was always still three—four if he was being honest with himself—against one.

"I stood by and just let them get away with it and now I regret that very much. I wasn't being a good friend to them or a good person, and I've promised myself to stop letting bad things happen to people who don't deserve it." He sat up and looked at the bed next to his where Neville was sitting, cross-legged, fidgeting with his tie. "You didn't deserve being treated like that, Neville."

The boy hesitantly smiled. "Thanks for standing up for me, Remus," he said very quietly. "It's . . . it's nice to have a friend like you. Harry and Ron are good friends, but . . . well," he shrugged, "they mostly just get in trouble all on their own, don't they?" he said with a chuckle, and Remus grinned. "Hermione's usually the one who does most of my fighting for me."

Remus smiled at the thought of Hermione standing up for Neville. Had Snape not been a professor, he was fairly certain she would have been the first one with her wand out in defence of a friend. "You fought in the Department of Mysteries," Remus pointed out, not wanting Neville to feel like he needed his battles to be fought for him.

Neville nodded but then shrugged, dismissing Remus's point. "I got my nose broken. And my wand."

"You  _fought_ ," Remus clarified. "You didn't have to go there with Harry and the others."

"Yes," Neville said as he raised his gaze to his friend, his expression suddenly one of conviction, "I did."

Remus grinned. "See? You don't need people to fight your battles for you, Neville. But I'll do it if you're ever unable to."

Neville's face turned a bit red, and he smiled. After clearing his throat of the awkwardness that came with accepting praise—something he was wholly unused to—he let go of his tie and sat forward, hands on his knees. "What happened? You said two of your friends were really good but one wasn't?"

Remus's smile vanished instantly at the thought of Peter. "No," he said quietly. "Turns out he wasn't."

Neville frowned. "What happened?"

Remus closed his eyes, remembering the way that Sirius's firewhisky glass smashed against the wall at the very mention of Peter's name. The story that had followed the outburst had been one that Remus tried to deny even as the walls had closed in on him. There was a painful tightening in his chest as he saw James and Lily in his head and the Azkaban brand on Sirius's skin. "He betrayed us all," Remus finally replied. "Got one of my friends killed by—"

"My parents were attacked by Death Eaters," Neville interrupted and Remus let out an exhale, grateful for the reprieve. "I understand being angry."

Remus didn't comment on Neville's confession, seeing that his friend already looked a bit awkward talking about it. "It just . . . it makes me nervous. I don't know who to trust now."

"You can trust Harry, Ron, and Hermione," Neville said automatically as though the words had just fallen from his mouth on instinct. "They'll get you in trouble half the time with McGonagall, but they're loyal friends."

"What about you, Neville?"

The other boy sat there and looked down, not in shame or embarrassment, but in severe contemplation as though the question was very important to him and he wanted to give it an equally important answer. After a heavy exhale, he looked up with renewed vigour in his eyes. "I would rather die than betray a friend."

Remus smiled. That was a damn good answer.

* * *

Remus purposely avoided going down to Potions with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. " _If a witch is pissed at you, avoid her until you're in public. Less likely she'll attack when there's witnesses,"_  Sirius had once told him. He didn't think Hermione would attack him over what he'd done in Defence, but she would be disappointed, that was certain, and he really didn't want to talk to her about what had happened.

When he arrived in the dungeon corridor, he saw that there were only a dozen people progressing to N.E.W.T. level Potions. Four Slytherins, including Malfoy, four Ravenclaws, and one Hufflepuff who was talking to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the only other Gryffindors besides himself in the class.

Remus approached the group quietly, reaching out and taking Hermione's hand, waiting to see if she'd pull it away.

She looked up at him and frowned, but seeing the guilty expression on his face, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly and she reached forward, brushing a strand of his shaggy hair from his brow, earning a tender smile from him in return.

". . . Shield Charms are old hat, of course, for us old D.A. lags, eh, Harry?" the Hufflepuff was saying before turning his attention to the others. "And how are you, Ron, Hermione, and . . . Lupin, right? Good show in Defence. I've always thought that Snape was a bit of . . ." but he stopped talking when the door to the classroom opened, Slughorn's belly preceding him through the door.

The students separated into Houses automatically, leaving the Hufflepuff on his own, which he seemed fine with as he spread his belongings out over the table, looking pleased. Malfoy joined the Slytherins at one table, the Ravenclaws gathered together at another, and Remus and Hermione sat side by side across from Harry and Ron.

The smells in the room were as overpowering as they'd always been, and Remus sighed, thinking that it would just get worse the closer to the full moon. He was grateful to know that Hermione had received an Outstanding in her Potions O.W.L. Without Lily to tutor him, he knew he'd have to rely on help from his newly acquired girlfriend, who was kind enough to take pity on his appalling lack of abilities when it came to brewing. Thankfully, the smells of the potions were overwhelmed by the calming scent of rose oil and oranges, and Remus struggled against the urge to bury his nose in Hermione's hair.

He looked at his friends. All three were staring at a gold-coloured cauldron, bubbling nearby, breathing in deep with lazy grins on their faces. Remus smirked at the sight, having a feeling he could place the potion without even looking at it, just by Harry and Ron's expressions. Raiding Slughorn's cupboards in third year had landed himself, James, and Sirius in detention, but had given Peter a dose of stolen Amortentia that had him professing his undying love to a seventh year Ravenclaw in the middle of a Quidditch game. Remus knew the symptoms.

"Now then, now then, now then," Slughorn said. "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of  _Advanced Potion-Making_ —"

Ron raised his hand. "Sir?"

Slughorn looked at the Gryffindor table and smiled at Harry before turning his attention to Ron. "Yes . . . er . . . you are?"

Ron's nose twitched in annoyance. "Ron Weasley. I umm . . . I seem to have forgotten my book at home," he said quietly, clearly embarrassed.

"Not to worry," Slughorn replied. "We've got a small stock of old books here. One of them will do until you can write your parents." Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard and, after a moment's foraging, emerged with a very battered-looking copy of  _Advanced Potion-Making_ , which he gave to Ron.

The redhead accepted the book with a frown as the cover nearly fell off in his hands. He slowly flipped the book open and let out a heavy sigh, clenching his jaw when one of the Slytherins—surprisingly not Draco—said, "Thought you'd be used to hand-me-downs, Weasley."

Harry glared at the other table and then reached into his bag, grabbing the new  _Advanced Potion-Making_  book that he'd brought with him, and traded it for Ron's old copy. "Take mine. I've already got to write Sirius to ask him to send a few things I left behind. He won't mind picking up a book, I don't think. Besides, the last thing any of us needs is a Howler from your mum over something as simple as a missing book," he said with a grin.

"Now then," Slughorn said, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat threatened to burst off, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Can anyone tell me what this one is?" he asked, indicating the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table.

Hermione's well-practiced hand hit the air before anybody else's; Slughorn pointed at her. "It's Veritaserum, a colourless, odourless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth," she said.

"Very good, very good!" Slughorn said happily. "Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, "this one here is pretty well known. . . . Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately, too . . . Who can—?"

Hermione's hand was fastest once more. "It's Polyjuice Potion, sir," she said.

Harry and Ron shared a smirk, and Remus raised a brow at them. "Tell you later," Harry said with a chuckle.

"Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here . . ." Slughorn began when both Remus and Hermione's hands went into the air. "Oh, let's try someone else then," he said, gesturing to Remus.

"It's Amortentia, a powerful Love Potion," Remus replied with a grin, happy for once that he actually knew the answer to one of Slughorn's questions. He could feel Hermione bristle at his side, muttering "the most powerful in the world" under her breath, slightly bitter at not being called upon three times in a row. Remus found her adorable.

"Quite right! You recognised it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?" Slughorn asked.

Remus smirked. "No, sir. By the looks on everyone's faces when they had a sniff of it," he said, and everyone chuckled good-naturedly while Ron and Harry turned a bit red in the face.

Slughorn was giddy with amusement, and he stepped closer to the cauldron. "Amortentia does have that effect on people. You see, it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us. Go on then, everyone have a sniff," he told them.

Ron and Harry practically breathed it in like oxygen, each coming away with the same silly grins on their faces. "Treacle tart," Harry muttered at the same time that Ron said, "Lemon cake."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course you would be attracted to food," she whispered teasingly.

Ron smirked. "Well go on, 'Mione, what's it smell like to you?"

She leant forward and pulled her hair back away from her face, Remus was overwhelmed by her scent and fought the strong desire to run his tongue along the back of her neck that had been left exposed when she moved her hair. He turned away from the cauldron completely, rubbing his hands down his face.

"I smell strong black tea, vanilla, and . . ." she said in a soft voice, looking a bit dazed as her cheeks turned slightly pink.

"Books?" Ron offered and Harry chuckled even as Hermione reached over and flicked them each in the nose.

"Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love," Slughorn was saying as they all sat back down, breathing fresher air to clear their heads. Remus ignored the professor, focusing instead on the softness of Hermione's arm pressed against his as they lay side by side on the table. "No," Slughorn went on, "this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room —oh yes. When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love."

There was a long moment where Slughorn sighed dramatically, appearing to be lost in thought before he cleared his throat and clapped his hands together. "And now," said Slughorn, "it is time for us to start work."

The assignment was given, Draught of Living Death, with an incentive prize of a bottle of Felix Felicis for the person who could brew the best. Remus knew it wouldn't be him, but he had money bet on Hermione, wondering what a perfectly lucky day for his girlfriend would be.

One by one, each table rose and stood in line to get their ingredients from the cupboard. Slughorn made introductions with those who he wasn't already acquainted with, while giggling over others who he'd already chosen for his Slug Club, Harry and one of the Slytherins included. The Professor studiously avoided Draco and another Slytherin that Ron told him was Theodore Nott, and Remus recalled listening to Lily go on about Slughorn's famous associations. Children of Death Eaters were unlikely to make the cut.

"Wonderful to have two young and eager minds in my class," Slughorn said as he stood before Hermione and Remus. "May I ask your name, my dear?"

"Hermione Granger, sir."

"Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

"No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see."

"Oho! 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?" Slughorn asked as Harry passed by, carrying a handful of ingredients.

"Yes, sir," he said, smiling at Hermione before returning to the table.

Hermione smiled proudly as Slughorn turned his attention to Remus. "And you m'boy?"

"Remus Lupin, sir," he replied.

Slughorn's brow furrowed. "Lupin. I believe I taught a Lupin once before."

Remus smirked. "My father. He would have been a student of yours about twenty years ago."

Slughorn thought for a long, hard moment before his eyes widened. "Lupin! Yes! He was friends with . . . er . . ." he paused and glanced over at Harry, who was preoccupied with adjusting the fire beneath his cauldron. "Yes, well," Slughorn continued, clearing his throat, "glad to have you in my class, m'boy."

Remus stepped into the cupboard with Hermione, the last two gathering their items as a Ravenclaw girl pushed her way past, leaving them alone in front of the various jars of ingredients. "So what else did you smell?" he asked quietly.

Hermione blushed prettily and whispered, "Pine," as she snatched up the required amount of valerian roots. "And . . . and what did you smell, Remus?"

He stepped behind her, pretending to reach for a jar above her head, aligning his chest to her back in the process. He leant low, pushing his nose along the back of her neck and the shell of her ear before whispering, "You."


	20. Chapter 20

**September 2nd, 1996**

Harry was still grinning as they sat down at the Gryffindor table for dinner, the bottle of Felix Felicis tucked away in the bottom of his trunk, rolled up in a sock. Hermione had fumed over the win, knowing that Harry had done something wrong to win the prize. She whispered to Remus of her suspicions that Harry had cheated, and he had resorted to sitting her down on the sofa in front of the fireplace and snogging her until she'd forgotten what she'd been saying before the pair started on their homework for Ancient Runes.

At dinner though, Harry's smug expression had Hermione bristling all over again. It didn't help when he actually told them  _how_ he'd accomplished a near perfect potion, Hermione's face growing stonier with every word he uttered.

"I s'pose you think I cheated?" he asked when finished.

"Well, it wasn't exactly your own work, was it?" she said stiffly.

"He only followed different instructions to ours," Ron said. "Could've been a catastrophe, couldn't it? But he took a risk and it paid off." He heaved a sigh. "Slughorn handed  _me_ that book. I should've bloody well kept the damn thing."

Harry smirked. "But you've got a brand new one instead."

Ron laughed. "Yeah, and my potion looked like tar."

"Hang on, did I hear right?" Ginny asked as she approached, slamming her things down on the table as she took a seat and glared at Harry. "You've been taking orders from something someone wrote in a book?" she asked, looking alarmed and angry.

"It's nothing," Harry said reassuringly, lowering his voice. "It's not like, you know, Riddle's diary. It's just an old textbook someone's scribbled on. Potions notes and a few other spells in the margins."

"But you're doing what it says?"

"Who's Riddle?" Remus asked in a whisper to Hermione, but she waved him off, trying to wait for a good enough moment to jump back into the conversation.

"Ginny's got a point," she said, perking up at once when she found an in. "We ought to check that there's nothing odd about it. I mean, all these funny instructions, who knows?"

"Hey!" Harry shouted, as she pulled his copy of  _Advanced Potion-Making_  out of his bag and raised her wand.

" _Specialis Revelio_!" she said, rapping it smartly on the front cover. Nothing whatsoever happened. The book simply lay there, looking old and dirty and dog-eared.

"Finished?" Harry asked irritably. "Or d'you want to wait and see if it does a few backflips?"

"It seems all right," Hermione muttered, still staring at the book suspiciously. "I mean, it really does seem to be . . . just a textbook."

Remus snatched it out of her hands and looked over the cover closely, running his hands over the spine. Closing his eyes, he smelled it. "It is just a textbook," he said, hoping to calm Hermione down. When she just stared at him curiously, Remus sighed. "Look, there's nothing Dark about it. No spells or . . ." he grumbled a bit. " _I'd_  be able to tell."

"How?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I've always been able to. Didn't really figure it out until . . . umm . . . a girl I knew was cursed," he said, thinking of Mary Macdonald and what Mulciber had done to her. "She went missing because of it and the whole . . . village," he said, knowing that Ginny was still under the assumption that he'd been schooled at home, "went searching for her. I offered to help and . . . well . . . and don't say a word about it," he pleaded, "but I can kind of smell out Dark magic."

Hermione's eyes were wide. "That's amazing, Remus."

"It's not," he assured her. "I can sense Dark magic because I have it inside me, because of what I am."

She glared at him and pinched his arm. " _Who_!" she snapped at him. "I will buy you a book on pronouns, Remus Lupin, so help me."

Harry, Ron, and Ginny were smirking at the scene as Remus rubbed his arm with a look of bewilderment. "Right then," he said. "Not that it matters. Werewolves are  _known_ to be Dark creatures. Whatever I do with it is my choice," he added, rolling his eyes, "when I can control it, but it's still there. Because of that, I know what to look for I guess. It's hard to focus it, though. Most of the time I really have to try and look for it."

Ron smiled. "Could've used you a lot over the years, mate."

"What happened to . . . to the girl?" Ginny asked curiously, her brows knit together.

Remus smiled kindly. "I found her and she was taken to a Healer right away. They fixed her and she was just fine," he said and took notice of the way that Ginny's shoulders relaxed a bit.

Harry looked across the table at Remus hesitantly. "If . . . how come Lupin didn't know about Pettigrew? Can you smell or . . . feel or whatever it is you do . . . Dark Marks?"

Remus turned his attention down to the table, having wondered the same thing. "Timing," he said. "From what he told me, Wormtail must have taken the Dark Mark while Lu . . . my father was infiltrating the werewolves. He said he hadn't seen Peter for nearly two years before . . . well . . . just before."

There was a heavy silence that lingered among the five and Hermione cleared her throat to break it. "I think we're all missing a very important fact," she said and, when everyone drew their attention to her, she turned her gaze on Harry. "Harry cheated on his potion."

Ron and Ginny both laughed and Harry rolled his eyes. When she squared her shoulders, ready to have another go at arguing with her best friend, Remus carefully rested his palm on her knee and she quieted immediately, eyes still slightly wide, a squeak stuck in her throat. He waited a moment for her to react to see whether or not he would remove his hand. Despite the shocked and possibly uncomfortable look on her face, she consciously turned her body toward him.

To avoid suspicion, Hermione kept her self-righteous air about her and studiously ignored Harry, as though she were punishing him, while turning her attention to her meal. Remus, finished eating, kept his right hand on Hermione's knee, edging closer to the inside where he pulled a bit at the hem of her skirt and traced lazy circles against the soft skin just above her knee-high socks. With his left hand, he casually perused Harry's Advanced Potion-Making book, doing his best not to look too curious and then started when he recognised the handwriting.

He pulled his hand away from Hermione's knee and regretted it instantly when he heard a soft noise of complaint from her, only loud enough that his lupine hearing picked up on it.  _Later_ , he promised himself.

Taking the book in both hands, he flipped to the front and then the back of the book, finally catching something scribbled along the bottom of the back cover in the same small, cramped handwriting as the rest of the notations on the pages:

_This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince._

* * *

After dinner and finishing their homework in the common room, Remus watched as, one by one, the other Gryffindors retired for the evening. When he was finally alone with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Remus drew their attention. "Harry, where's your Potions book?"

Harry grew immediately defensive. "Why?" he asked. "Are you on Hermione's side now?"

Remus sighed. "I don't consider what you did cheating, no," he said, doing his best not to look at Hermione, who was huffing and screwing her face up in an expression of disapproval. "But I do think you should give that book back to Professor Slughorn."

"Why?"

"Because I know who the Half-Blood Prince is," Remus said.

Harry's eyes widened. "You do?"

"What's a half-blood prince? There's no royalty in the Wizarding world," Ron said.

"Who is he?" Harry eagerly asked.

Remus sighed. "Severus Snape."

_It had been less than six months ago for him, when he was in 1976, revising for his O.W.L.s with Lily in the library. They'd met there often, knowing that if they dared to study in the common room, James, Sirius, and Peter would be too much of a distraction. As it was, two of the four Marauders had been banned from the library by Madam Pince, who was one of few witches that refused to fall for Sirius's flirtations in order to get his way._

" _You're going to be fine, Remus," Lily assured him, pulling notes out of her bookbag, followed by a variety of potions textbooks not assigned to the class. "I'm going to help you pass your Potions O.W.L. and then you're going to help me along in Defence like we agreed. I hardly think I'll be able to properly cast a defensive shield if I feel like I've let you down."_

_He smiled at her, his devoted friend, and then glanced down at the notes she handed him. "These aren't yours," he pointed out._

_Lily pursed her lips. "How do you know that?"_

_Remus chuckled. "Because you dot your i's with little hearts."_

_Lily turned bright red and huffed. "I most certainly do not," she said and then pinched his arm when he laughed at her. "These were given to me by a friend. I do well enough in Potions, but you see how Slughorn acts around me. I've no idea what he finds so special about a Muggle-born that can brew a potion. He looks at me like I'm some exotic creature in a zoo."_

_Remus chuckled. "You are a bit of a prodigy. And you adore the attention Slughorn gives you, don't deny it."_

_She blushed and exhaled sharply through her nose in denial of the accusation. "I'm exceptional," she admitted. "Hardly a prodigy. These notes, however, were written by someone who actually is. But he's poor and half-blood so Slughorn hardly casts a side glance to him in class."_

_Remus frowned. "Are these Snape's notes?"_

_Lily nodded. "I know you don't get on well but—"_

" _Don't get on well? Lily, he hates me," Remus said emphatically. "If he knew that you were giving me his notes for revision—"_

_Lily smirked. "Well, then we won't tell him," she said, but then her smile faded. "He's not exactly speaking to me lately as it is."_

Harry's eyes were wide as he listened to the story. "This is  _Snape's_ book? You're certain?"

Remus nodded. "His mum's last name was Prince. Lily told me. They are . . . or I guess  _were_ a pureblood family who disowned her when she married a Muggle; Snape's father. Lily didn't say much, wanting to keep his secrets and all, but I got the feeling that his father wasn't a very good person. It makes sense that he'd associate more with his Wizarding family, even if they didn't acknowledge him."

"Snape's a  _half-blood_?" Ron asked in shock. "I always thought . . . y'know, what with him being involved with You-Know-Who . . ."

"Harry, you have to give that book back to Professor Slughorn," Hermione insisted. "If Professor Snape knew you had his old book, he'd be cross. More than cross."

Remus agreed. "Hermione's right. He was brilliant at Potions, Harry. I passed my O.W.L. because of his notes and Lily's tutoring, but you said it's not just brewing tips written in the margins; there's spells as well?" When Harry nodded, Remus sighed. "Harry, even Lily admitted that Snape was heavily into Dark Arts in school. They were friends, good friends, to the point that James went out of his way to make Snape's life even worse because he and Lily were so close and well . . . Prongs was a jealous git sometimes. But when Snape started messing about with Dark magic, Lily stopped spending time with him. If there are spells written in that book of his, they might be Dark and dangerous."

Harry sighed in irritation. "But if he was such a prodigy at Potions then maybe just the notes on brewing would be—"

"If he wrote those notes, he's likely already taught you what you needed to know in his class the past five years," Hermione said. "If you want, I still have all of the notes I've taken for Professor Snape's Potions classes. I could let you have  _those_ when they apply to whatever we might be doing for Professor Slughorn. But Harry, you need to give that book back. In fact, if there's potentially dangerous spells in there, you should give it to Professor Snape."

Ron gaped at her. "Why him? Just give it back to Slughorn."

"And let someone  _else_ stumble upon it?" Hermione asked. "Professor Snape is the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher now, this is his area of expertise."

Harry groaned. "Maybe I'll owl the book to Sirius and Lupin."

"Harry," Hermione said reproachfully.

"Fine!" he snapped. "I'll give Snape the book tomorrow," he said bitterly. "Happy?"

Hermione smiled. "I will be when you finish your Defence essay," she said.

While Hermione and Remus remained in the common room to go over their Ancient Runes homework together, Ron and Harry retired to bed. Once the bedroom door was shut, Harry pulled the Advanced Potion-Making book from his bag.

"You really going to give Snape his book back?" Ron asked.

Harry smirked and tapped the book with his wand. " _Geminio_ ," he said and his smirk turned into a full grin when an extra copy of the book appeared in his hand. "I'll give him  _one_ of his books back," he said and then cast a Stasis Spell on the copy. "You won't tell Hermione, will you?"

Ron shook his head. "'Course not," he replied. "Keep quiet around Remus as well, yeah? I can't tell if he's just as rule-abiding as Lupin, or if he's just kissing up to Hermione so she'll keep snogging him," he said with a chuckle.

Harry joined in on the laugh. "It's good to see them both happy, though," he pointed out.

Ron smiled. "Now all we need is to get us a pair of witches."

* * *

**September 7th, 1996**

For the rest of the week's lessons, Harry used an extra copy of the textbook that Slughorn had in his cupboard, telling the Potions Professor that the other one was so old and worn that it had fallen to pieces. Slughorn was more than happy to provide Harry with an extra copy, insisting that Harry was a very good person for offering Ron his brand new book.

Neither Remus nor Hermione stuck around when Harry returned the Half-Blood Prince's book to Professor Snape, but he'd come away from Defence one afternoon with an angry scowl on his face and said that Snape had burned the book right in front of him after implying that Harry was trying to bribe or possibly blackmail him.

"He  _burned_ a book?!" Hermione had asked, horrified and then, when Remus rubbed her shoulders to comfort her, she sighed. "Well, I suppose it was  _his_ book. And maybe that should tell you what kind of things he might have written in it, Harry."

Harry accepted Hermione's notes for Potions class and continued to impress Professor Slughorn much to Hermione's annoyance. Though, with him supposedly using her own notes, she didn't vocalise her envy to her best friend, only pointing out to Remus from time to time how unfair Slughorn's preferential treatment of his favourite students was.

Late one evening, Remus waited up for Hermione and Ron to finish prefect rounds, smiling when she stepped through the portrait hole. "How'd it go?" he asked.

Hermione scoffed. "We caught two fourth years snogging in an empty classroom."

Remus smirked. "Really? Which one? Is it still empty?"

Ron laughed and she narrowed her eyes and shook her head at Remus. "You're impossible," she said and flopped down on the sofa beside him.

"Harry back yet?" Ron asked.

Remus shook his head. "Must still be in his meeting with Dumbledore."

Ron yawned and stretched his arms over his head. "Right then, I'm off," he said and headed up the stairs to the dorm rooms.

"What are you still doing up?" Hermione asked as she cuddled against Remus, smiling when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer against his side.

"Finishing up Charms reading," he said. "I might have even caught up to you."

"Overachiever," she teased.

He kissed the top of her head and then whispered into her hair, "Maybe I just wanted to wait up for you. Are you officially off prefect duty?"

Hermione turned and raised a brow at him. "I'm always a prefect, but I suppose technically I'm no longer on scheduled—mphf!" The rest of her words were swallowed by Remus's hungry lips and Hermione sighed softly into his mouth, holding back a moan when his tongue touched hers.

He kissed her deep and pushed the fingers of one hand into her hair while letting the other snake around her waist, touching the soft skin of her lower back. She shivered when he groaned, the sound vibrating against her lips, and Hermione quickly pulled away to catch her breath. "Remus are umm . . . when is the—"

"Full moon is still weeks away," he told her in between heavy breaths.

She bit her lower lip before asking, "So this is . . . ?"

He grinned. "This is just me . . . reacting to everything that is just . . . just you."

_That_ , it would seem, was the right thing to say.

Hermione pulled his face down to let their mouths collide frantically, shivering again when his hands resumed their eager perusal of her lower back and hair. When his fingers roamed to her side and touched the bottom of her ribs, they brushed over the end of the scar left behind from the Department of Mysteries. Somehow, Remus touching it, Hermione was reminded of the length of the gash and how it came up between her breasts, ending at her collar bone. His fingers didn't pause when they touched the scar and she wondered how he would react if he saw  _all_ of it . . . saw all of  _her_.

Skin overheating at the thought, Hermione pulled away again.

Remus frowned. "Am I . . . if I'm pushing you or going too fast, please let me know," he insisted. "I would never want you to—"

"I'm fine," she admitted. "You're not doing anything wrong, Remus. Nothing that . . . nothing that I don't want. I might . . . I might want it too much," she said quietly and he growled hungrily in the back of his throat at the words, causing Hermione to whimper. "Oh, that's not helping," she said with a nervous laugh.

Remus took a deep breath to calm himself, focusing on the bit of space that separated them as well as the worry in her eyes. When sufficiently in control, he cleared his throat. "I suppose we should umm . . . talk?" he asked. "I don't want you to think that . . . that I'm with you for anything other than the fact that I . . . well, I adore you quite a bit, Hermione."

She smiled brightly. "I feel the same," she admitted. "It is . . . a bit fast, isn't it?" she asked, her tone genuine.

"I wouldn't know," he admitted. "Never had a proper relationship before, if I'm being honest. I could never . . . be myself, truly. You knowing about me, about what I . . ." he began but saw her narrowed eyes and he cleared his throat, correcting his words mid-sentence, "what my  _condition_ is," he said and smiled when she seemed mollified by his adjustment. "It's very new to me."

Hermione nervously worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "No former relationships . . . but . . . ?"

Remus swallowed hard. "I . . . I'm not a . . . once," he said. "Just the once. Granted, I've been told by my older counterpart that in my original time I became a bit of a slag sixth year," he said with irritation and then chuckled when Hermione gasped, covering her mouth to stifle the giggles that followed.

"Oh goodness," she said. "I don't think I wanted to know that about Professor Lupin."

Remus smirked. "Imagine how  _I_ feel."

She smiled at him, reaching forward and running her fingers through his hair, feeling quite prideful when his chest rumbled in reply to her touch. "I've never . . . had sex," she said, blushing a bit at the confession. "But I've been with . . . well . . . I've done, other things."

"Krum?" Remus questioned. "The Quidditch player?" At Hermione's shocked expression he smirked. "Ron told me. Apparently, there were some issues?"

Hermione scoffed. "That's an understatement. But well . . . yes, it was Viktor."

He nodded. "But you're not still . . ."

She shook her head. "Just friends. Not even, really. Just penpals, if I'm being honest. I only . . . there's only you."

He smiled. "Good. And umm . . . how fast did—"

"Quite fast," she admitted. "We weren't even properly dating. I'm afraid I took a bit of my anger at Ron out on poor Viktor."

Remus laughed. "I doubt any man would complain," he said and smiled when she rolled her eyes at him. "We'll go at your speed," he said.

She boldly pressed her lips to his neck and whispered, "I like this speed. This speed is . . . it feels fast but . . . but good."

Remus moaned when she added suction, nipping the skin at the hollow of his throat gently with her teeth. "Gods, you're perfect," he said and pushed forward until she was laying back against the sofa and he was settled nearly on top of her. "You say stop, and I stop," he told her before latching his mouth to her pulse point while his hands skimmed beneath her jumper but over her blouse, dragging his fingernails against wire when he reached the bottom edge of her bra.

Hermione mewled when he was finally bold enough to cup her breast in one hand and squeeze at the same time that he ground his hips against her, revealing just how very much he was affected by all the wonderful little noises she was making. "Remus . . ." she said in a breathy voice as he licked at her jaw. "We shouldn't do this . . . here."

He pulled away just enough to stare into her eyes, their lips barely touching as they shared a breath. "I could . . . I could cast a Notice-Me-Not."

"Bit pointless at the moment," a voice spoke from the other side of the room.

"Harry!" Hermione yelped and quickly jumped away from Remus, accidentally bumping her hip against his erection, causing him to double over in pain.

Harry, standing by the portrait hole, chuckled at the scene of his best friend caught snogging her werewolf boyfriend in the common room. "Bloody hell, Hermione," he teased. "There are children sleeping upstairs." He grinned at her embarrassment, even as she glared at him, though he offered a sympathetic smile to Remus as he sat back up, wincing a bit as he adjusted himself on the sofa. "You all right, mate?"

Remus nodded. "Thanks very much, Harry," he said bitterly.

"Let me head upstairs and you can continue. I'll just need to scrub my brain for a minute or two," Harry joked.

Hermione pursed her lips. "You're not funny," she said. "Are you just now back from Dumbledore's meeting? What happened?"

Harry's smile faded. "Voldemort's a half-blood," he offered. "His mother slipped a Love Potion to a Muggle and married him." He sighed and rubbed at the scar on his forehead. "It was a long night. I'll fill you all in on everything in the morning after I get some sleep. Ron will be sore if he's not around when I tell you what happened anyway."

Hermione nodded. "Get some rest, Harry."

When he'd disappeared up the stairs, she returned her attention to Remus. "Are you all right?" she asked. "I'm so sorry."

Remus smiled painfully. "I'm fine, love," he said and her breath caught in her throat at the term of endearment. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But you were right. This isn't the place or the time," he said softly, kissing her once more. "I'm not going anywhere. We have all the time in the world."

She grinned at him. "Goodnight, Remus."

He waited several minutes before ascending the stairs and slipping quietly into the dorm room, pleased to hear the variety of snores coming from each of the beds of his sleeping roommates. Remus paused as he made his way to his own four-poster, stopping to look at Harry as he slept soundly. He grinned deviously, recalling a time when he shared this room with other friends.

" _Let me out, you pricks!" James hollered._

_Peter was shaking with laughter and Remus smirked from the side of James's bed, where the black-haired boy was trapped beneath the covers._

" _No can do, Prongsie," Sirius insisted as he sat, cross-legged at the foot of the bed. "You knew very well that I was in that broom cupboard with Miranda Fawley, and you opened it anyway. You broke rule number three of the Marauders code, mate."_

" _Never be a cock block," Remus said with a laugh._

" _Never be a cock block," Sirius echoed, pointing his finger in James's face. "You're lucky I've already had a wank this morning and worked out all my anger. This could have been a lot worse for you than locking you in bed and casting a little Colour Change Charm."_

_James raised a confused brow. "What Colour Change Charm?"_

_Sirius smirked. "Well, I had blue balls for a while. Now, so will you."_

Remus, silently laughing at the memory, glanced down at his sleeping friend and sighed. " _Colovaria_ ," he whispered with a grin, aiming his wand at Harry's groin.


	21. Chapter 21

**September 14th, 1996**

After breakfast on the morning of Quidditch tryouts, Remus and Hermione said goodbye to Neville before following after Harry and Ron. They walked hand in hand, and Remus stood proud as ever, still enjoying the new feeling of holding a girl's hand in public and having her know his secret and not shy away from—or go running in fear of—him.

They approached two of Hermione's roommates, who were staring at Harry and Ron, causing Hermione to chuckle. Remus looked at her and then back to the girls, noting that the blond one was grinning and giggling as she stared and, suddenly, Ron was walking a bit taller, his arms at his sides and his chest puffed out a bit. Hermione struggled to hold back her laughter as their friend continued to the Quidditch Pitch, strutting.

"Good luck, boys," Hermione said when they arrived at the stadium, pulling Remus with her through the stands and smiling when he cast a mild Repelling Charm to keep the misty drizzle of rain from soaking them through.

Once they'd found seats that weren't completely open to the rain, Hermione sat down and pulled out a book. "Quite the turnout," she noted, glancing down at the grass where Harry stood with Ginny, Ron, and everyone else that had come to try out for the team.

Remus smirked. "They're all here for Harry."

"What makes you say that?"

He leant close to her as if to whisper, gesturing to a small crowd of young witches. "That group of girls just there met us on the train. They were trying to get Harry to go and sit with them," he scoffed. "Irritating little chits."

Hermione pursed her lips and tried not to smile. "That's not very nice, Remus."

He shrugged, not caring. "They were rude to Neville and Luna," he said. "And their little leader is a pest. Flirted with Harry and then, when he turned her down, she . . . er . . ." His face flushed and he turned away. "Never mind."

Hermione blinked at him rapidly, moving her head to look at the young witches before returning her focus to her boyfriend. "Did she  _flirt_ with you?" she asked curiously.

He winced. "A bit. I told her I was taken," he said very quickly. "I was a bit harsh with my dismissal, really. Not jealous, are you?" he asked in a teasing tone when he saw a small flicker of annoyance in her eyes.

She lifted a brow. "Should I be?"

He laughed. "Gods, no," he said and then reached for her, pulling her close to him by the lapels of her cloak and buried his nose in her hair, breathing deep. "I'm lucky enough that you're willing to look my way and smile. Never mind that you let me snog you," he added before kissing her jaw, drawing a sweet little mewl from her throat.

She allowed the public display, her eyes on the field where everyone's attention was turned to Harry, no one looking toward the stands. "I'm not jealous," she insisted. "And you think too highly of me, Remus. Honestly," she smiled when he pulled away, rubbing his nose against hers before lightly kissing her lips, "it's nice . . . I don't normally have the attention of such a handsome wizard," she admitted flirtatiously, though the humble blush on her cheeks was genuine.

Remus smirked, doing his best to ignore the discomfort that came with being praised so openly. "What about famous Quidditch players?"

She laughed and shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Jealous?"

He shook his head, mimicking her with a smile. " _I'm_  the one you're with, aren't I?"

She let out a small breath of relief. "Good," she said, cupping his jaw with the palm of her hand, very briefly getting lost in the green of his eyes, searching out the tiny flecks of gold that indicated his condition. "I dislike jealousy."

"I'm not the jealous type," Remus admitted, the gold in his gaze shining a touch brighter. "I am, however, a  _territorial_ type."

"Is that the wolf?" Hermione asked curiously.

Remus swallowed, still a touch nervous whenever his lycanthropy was brought up in discussion, as though one day Hermione would wake up, realise that she was allowing a monster to touch her, and then run away, screaming. She appeared to pick up on this change and leant closer to him, pressing her forehead against his. Remus closed his eyes and allowed the tension to roll off of him. "The wolf, a bit, yeah," he quietly confessed. "And if that bloke over there doesn't stop looking you over, I'm going to punch him in his pretty face," he added, casting a glance down to the grass.

Hermione sat back in shock. "What? Who?"

Remus growled. "That one there," he said and did his very best not to bare his teeth at the bloke in a Keeper's uniform who was staring at Hermione with a smug grin on his face.

She grimaced at the sight and then looked away, dismissing him. "I don't know him. But if he keeps looking, all he'll see is  _me_ staring at  _you_."

A grin overtook Remus's face and he wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her forward and nearly onto his lap. She made a squeaking noise that he captured with his lips, not hesitating before slipping his tongue in her mouth, tasting the sweet citrusy flavour that was just Hermione, and groaning. His hands began to wander down her sides and over her back, eventually palming her hips and thighs. When the tips of his fingers brushed against the curve of her arse, she gasped into his mouth and Remus pulled away, so very tempted to go further, but not wanting to push her. " _Just_  staring?" he asked teasingly. "Because the full moon might be weeks off but you . . . smell . . ." he said, inhaling deeply, "so bloody good."

Hermione licked her lips and groaned miserably. "We're in public, Remus."

He relented, moving his hands away from her bum and instead used them to push the hair from her shoulder, kissing the exposed skin. "Wish we weren't."

A shiver ran down her spine at the contact as her skin warmed over despite the chilly breeze that pushed through the stands. "Gods, what are you doing to me?" she whispered wantonly and then, hearing herself, cleared her throat and pulled away. "All right, enough of that. I have to set an example," she said, sitting up straight. "Plus, I need to catch up on my reading for Arithmancy. Will you let me know when to pay attention? I don't care about the others, but Ron and Ginny will be sore if I miss their turns."

* * *

When the tryouts were over, Hermione and Remus walked hand in hand down to the grass, each schooling their expressions as they approached their friends. "Come on, Ron's going to be upset that he didn't make the team," Hermione said, having noticed the way that the redhead's shoulders slumped when Harry had announced the position of Keeper.

"You did really well, mate. But you only caught four and McLaggen caught five," Harry said, glancing up and giving a nod of greeting to Hermione and Remus before returning his attention to Ron. "I can't show preference because you're my best friend. Someone will complain and they'll take away my Captain's badge. Then you  _still_ won't be on the team. At least this way, you're my reserve Keeper. If McLaggen gets injured, you're in."

Ron frowned, looking positively defeated. "I hate that sodding prick."

Hermione gasped. "Ronald!"

"No, he's right," Harry said and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "McLaggen's an arsehole. He'll likely get injured early on. I wanted to set the Bludgers on him more than once myself."

"What's his problem?" Remus asked, narrowing his eyes at the back of the wizard in question as he stood at the edge of the pitch, flirting with a few Hufflepuff girls who had stuck around to watch.

Harry frowned. "He thinks he's Merlin's gift because his uncle's some big to do in the Ministry or something. He was at the lunch thing I went to with Slughorn on the train."

Hermione was about to say something else when she was interrupted by the sudden presence of her roommates. "You did brilliantly, Ronald!" Lavender said excitedly, standing in Ron's personal space, making him step back awkwardly in confusion.

"What? Er . . . thanks," he mumbled. "I missed one. Didn't make the team."

Lavender looked puzzled by the news. "You didn't? But you were  _clearly_ the best," she insisted and then turned an angry gaze on Harry as though it were completely his fault.

Ron blinked. "I  _was_?" he asked and then let a small smile cross his mouth. "I umm . . . I made reserve Keeper," he said and his smile widened when Lavender grinned at him.

"You see?" she said. "That's on the team, isn't it?"

He nodded. "I s'pose."

She continued to smile at him until his ears turned bright red, at which point she turned her attention to Hermione. "Hi, Hermione," she said. "Aren't you going to introduce us to your boyfriend?"

Hermione, fully amused by the entertaining conversation that had just taken place, was shocked to suddenly be involved. "What? Oh, umm . . . all right. Remus, these are my roommates Lavender and Parvati."

Remus smiled politely and nodded his head in greeting, remembering how—no matter who they were or how old—Sirius would always kiss the fingertips of any witch he was introduced to. Remus had  _never_ been so bold. "Ladies, it's a pleasure."

"Are you Professor Lupin's son?" Parvati asked.

"Yes."

Lavender smiled, her expression genuine instead of the overplayed grin she had just spent minutes giving Ron. "Will you tell him we all miss him. He was  _loads_ better than Professor Snape."

"Handsomer too," Parvati added.

Remus's eyes widened, and he felt Hermione's grip on his hand tighten.

Lavender giggled. "Parvati! You're terrible."

Remus awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "Er . . . thanks?"

"We should be off. Congratulations, again, Ronald," Lavender said, giving him one last bright smile before Parvati pulled her off the field.

Hermione smirked at the way Ron's eyes followed after the girls. "She fancies you."

"What?" Ron asked, looking confused and pleased at the same time. "Nah. Really?"

Hermione nodded and chuckled at his reaction.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked. "Something tells me they would have much preferred to look at Remus. He's much handsomer than Professor Snape, y'see."

Hermione and Ron laughed, and Remus's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Bugger off, Harry," he said, playfully shoving his friend in the shoulder.

* * *

The smell of roast beef made their stomachs ache with hunger, but they had barely taken three steps toward the Gryffindor table when Professor Slughorn appeared in front of them, blocking their path. "Harry, Harry, just the man I was hoping to see!" he boomed genially, twiddling the ends of his walrus moustache and puffing out his enormous belly. "I was hoping to catch you before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my rooms instead? We're having a little party, just a few rising stars, I've got McLaggen coming and Zabini, the charming Melinda Bobbin—I don't know whether you know her? Her family owns a large chain of apothecaries—and, of course, I hope very much that Miss Granger will favour me by coming too." Slughorn made Hermione a little bow as he finished speaking. It was as though Ron and Remus were not present; Slughorn did not so much as look at either of them. Ron, likely for being unknown to him, and Remus for being a reminder of students of the past.

"I can't come, Professor," Harry said quickly. "I've got a detention with Professor Snape."

"Oh dear!" Slughorn exclaimed, his face falling comically. "Dear, dear, I was counting on you, Harry! Well, now, I'll just have to have a word with Severus and explain the situation. I'm sure I'll be able to persuade him to postpone your detention. Yes, I'll see you both later!"

He bustled away out of the Hall.

"He's got no chance of persuading Snape," Harry said with a scoff, the moment Slughorn was out of earshot. "This detention's already been postponed once; Snape did it for Dumbledore, but he  _won't_ do it for anyone else."

"Oh, I wish you could come, I don't want to go on my own!" Hermione anxiously said, frowning as she thought about mingling with Slytherins who hated her, a professor who seemed to think she was some sort of rare thing, a talented Muggle-born. And then there was McLaggen.

* * *

After walking with Remus to McGonagall's office for his detention, Hermione walked with Harry to the dungeons, offering him a sympathetic smile before leaving him with Professor Snape and then making her own way toward Slughorn's quarters, Slug Club invitation in hand. She nervously ran her hands down her pleated grey school skirt, having paired it with a red jumper she'd brought from home, forgoing her school robes. Slughorn knew that she was a Muggle-born and she wasn't about to let him forget it. Muggle-born and proud. She would showcase her talent and rub it in his snooty pureblood face.

"Miss Granger, Miss Granger, so lovely of you to join us," the Potions Master greeted her at the door. "Terrible that Harry had to miss the fun. I had a chat with Professor Snape and he seemed very stern on a timely schedule for detentions," he said, pulling her into the room and speaking without giving her a chance to even say hello. "If you ask me, detentions are easily rescheduled, especially for someone like Severus. It's not as though you see him entertaining much, now, do you?" he chortled.

She blinked, shocked with how informally Slughorn spoke with her. "Umm . . . no, sir."

He grinned, appearing pleased as punch to have her agree with him. "Come, come, m'dear. Let me introduce you to everyone else." They moved through the room and Hermione briefly acknowledged the few people she knew personally, doing her best not to appear anxious when Slughorn moved toward a small gathering of Slytherins. "Ah, Mister Zabini, have you met Miss Granger?"

The boy glanced her over as though appraising her and then lifted a slender brow. "Charmed," he said, looking anything but.

Slughorn, sensing the tension, moved over to a short Ravenclaw boy who appeared nervous, standing there by himself. "And here we have Mister Belby. Marcus m'boy, any letters from your uncle?"

The boy, Marcus, looked positively uncomfortable. "No, sir. As I've said, he and Dad don't really get on."

Slughorn nodded. "Much too busy, yes, yes. Ah, I see the food has arrived. Will you excuse me?" he asked Hermione and then disappeared from her side before she could respond.

She cleared her throat and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Your uncle is Damocles Belby?" she asked the Ravenclaw.

He stared at her suspiciously. "Yeah."

She smiled kindly at him. "He's a brilliant potioneer," she said, despising small talk and wishing very much that Harry had come with her. A part of her wished that she could have declined the invitation and spent the evening with a book in hand, snuggled into Remus's side in front of the fireplace in the common room. But he had detention, so attending this little soiree had seemed like a good way to pass the hours.

"Invented wolfsbane, right? Keeps werewolves from lifting their legs around the house," Zabini said as he approached the pair, glass of what looked like firewhisky in hand.

Hermione did her best not to react to the liquor and the Slytherin's little insult and, instead, lifted her chin defiantly. "He invented the Wolfsbane  _Potion_ , not wolfsbane. That's a plant, also known as aconite or monkshood. Aren't you in N.E.W.T. level Potions class?" she asked incredulously.

Zabini laughed, his expression relaxing a bit. "All right, Granger, ease off."

"A bit obsessed, aren't we, Granger?" Hestia Carrow said as she walked over, her twin sister's arm looped through hers. "Looking for handouts for your boyfriend's daddy?"

Flora Carrow giggled. "Oh, you haven't heard?" she said when Marcus lifted his brows in surprise. "Miss Mudblood here is dating the son of a werewolf."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and clenched her teeth, giving no reaction to the slur used against  _her_ , but the disgusted tone with which the girl said "werewolf" was enraging. Hermione opened her mouth to tell the Slytherin girls exactly how offensive and horrible they were, when an arm draped over her shoulders and pulled her against a hard body. She turned to look at the source of the interruption and grimaced in shock.

"Well, I don't know about you ladies, but I think she could do much better," he said and then winked at her. "Hermione Granger, allow me to introduce myself. Cormac McLaggen, Gryffindor Keeper."

She shrugged his arm off of her and moved away as quickly as possible. "I'm aware of who you are, I was at the Quidditch tryouts."

He grinned. "Impressive, right? Caught everything they tried to throw at me."

Appalled, she gave him her very best Draco Malfoy sneer. "I wouldn't know. I'd only gone to watch my friends try out."

Cormac laughed. "Weasleys, right. Interesting . . .  _lot_ , aren't they? A bit slow."

She gasped and her mouth fell open. "Excuse me?"

He stepped forward and into her personal space again, causing her to stumble into the Carrow twins who actually hissed at her in reply. She tried to offer a small apologetic look—deserved or not—but was caught off guard again when Cormac put his arm back around her shoulders. "It might be the poor quality of their brooms, of course," he said. "I prefer things that are up to standard. And  _very, very_ fast."

She could feel her magic flaring in anger. "I wouldn't know. I don't care much for flying."

Cormac smirked and then chucked her chin as though she were a child. "Oh, you're a laugh, you are. My uncle would like you. Tiberius McLaggen, you've heard of him, of course."

She narrowed her eyes and tried to move away, finding herself trapped between Cormac and a wall. "Have I?" she asked, feeling for her wand and wondering if she'd get in trouble for hexing the idiot.

"He and I go hunting every holiday with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour. He'll be Minister of Magic once he runs Fudge out of office. The man denies the return of You-Know-Who for a full year and then thinks a PR campaign, pardoning a man who had already escaped from prison, and putting together a few pamphlets will get him back into the good graces of the public? Hardly. No, no, Scrimgeour's the future, you mark my words. He and I are very close. You should come hunting with us sometime."

Ignoring the fact that McLaggen appeared to think he had an in when it came to politics, not the least of which was the fact that Rufus Scrimgeour was trying to oust Cornelius Fudge, Hermione scowled at the boy. "I don't hunt."

Cormac nodded, looking like he found her just positively adorable. "Leave the rough stuff to the blokes, right? Good for you. Delicate hands," he said and then reached for her fingers, bringing them to his mouth, "should be saved for . . . delicate things. Perhaps just dinner then?" he asked, smiling when she ripped her hand out of his grip. "Next Hogsmeade weekend."

"I beg your . . . no, thank you," she growled. "I'll be going to Hogsmeade with my  _boyfriend_."

He rolled his eyes. "Lupin? The professor's son? They don't make much money, do they? Professors, I mean. Of course, he's not a professor anymore, now is he? Who still hires werewolves? Isn't there a law about that?"

"A ridiculous law that is currently being investigated, yes. And it doesn't matter where his father works."

"Oh, you're a riot, Granger," he said with a laugh and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, earning him a slap to the chest and a shove that allowed her to escape him. He ignored every protest as though they hadn't happened at all. "So, Hogsmeade? Maybe you could wear this," he said, looking her up and down, "and we could sneak up to the Shrieking Shack and—"

"If she's sneaking off to the Shrieking Shack with anyone, McLaggen, it'll be Remus, now be a good lad and fuck off, will you?" Ginny snapped as she approached, looping her arm through Hermione's in a very possessive stance that was obviously threatening, even to an idiot like Cormac.

"I like  _this_ Weasley," he said with a laugh. "Care to try a ride on a  _quality_ broom?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Ginny grinned. "Oh, I'd  _love_ to, but the last time I rode one that  _small,_ it didn't get very high off the ground," she said, looking victorious when Cormac's overly confident grin finally faltered, and a laugh escaped Hermione's lips.

* * *

Several hours later, Hermione finally was able to get away from Slughorn's barrage of questions about her Muggle heritage, all of which were laced with passive aggressive insults that he appeared to be completely oblivious to. She'd successfully avoided Cormac for the rest of the evening by sticking as close to Ginny as humanly possible, smiling when Neville showed up as well, sandwiching herself between him and the redhead. Her heritage had been brought up multiple times, mostly by the Carrows twins and once by Zabini, and both Ginny and Neville rose to her defence before she had a chance to even open her mouth.

While Slughorn busied himself with Melinda Bobbin, Hermione turned her attention to Neville. "I didn't expect you to be here," she said. "I thought you'd dropped Potions?"

He smiled. "I did," he said. "And I'm pretty sure when Slughorn figures that out, I won't get another invite."

She frowned. "Thank you," she said a moment later. "You didn't have to stick up for me like that, you know."

"I know," Neville said. "But . . . but friends look after one another." He cleared his throat before adding, "And even if you weren't my friend, which you  _are_ , Remus is my friend and you're . . . well . . . he'd want me to look out for you."

She smiled. "You're a good friend, Neville." He preened a bit under her praise but then blinked in confusion when she suddenly scowled over his shoulder. "McLaggen's coming over. I need to get out of here," she said and tried to sidestep the Quidditch player only to stumble into Neville when he tried to do the same and suddenly a heavy, sweaty arm was back around her shoulders.

"I should tell you, Granger, I don't do Madam Puddifoot's. I've got a connection at the Three Broomsticks. Firewhisky. Do you drink?" he asked.

Her jaw ticked and the ends of her hair sparked. "No, but I see  _you_ do," she said, glancing at his glass. "Can I get you a refill?"

Cormac grinned at her. "See? I knew you and I would get along swimmingly. There's a good girl," he said, holding out his glass to her.

She smiled and took it from his hands, using the prop as an excuse to get away. When his back was turned, she set the glass on a nearby table and ran for the door, offering no farewells.

* * *

She practically flew through the portrait hole, eager to shed her clothes and grab her shower kit before rushing away to the prefect's bathroom to scrub away the stench of McLaggen, firewhisky, and the terrible mixtures of incense that Slughorn had burning in every corner of the room. Before she took a step toward the staircase, her eyes locked on Remus who was relaxing on the sofa in front of the fireplace, one arm draped casually behind him, the other bent and resting against his knee as he held a book in hand, looking the very picture of relaxation and comfort.

He turned and looked at her and the fire brought out the gold in his eyes so easily. She swallowed and remembered his words from earlier, speaking of his territoriality. Not wanting to  _ever_ give him reason to think that she feared his conditions and the symptoms that came with it, she rushed toward him, eager to embrace the wolf.

"Hello, beautiful," Remus said with a smile, discarding the book in his hand in order to pull Hermione into his arms.

"Kiss me," she desperately pleaded.

Remus frowned at the strange look in her eyes. "Wha—mphf!" he tried to say but was assaulted by her mouth muffling his words. Two weeks away from the full moon and, though his senses weren't yet completely hijacked by the wolf, his instincts were on alert. He melted into her kiss, and inhaled deeply, expecting oranges and rose oil but met with . . . something . . . not Hermione. He pulled away instantly, his brows furrowed. "You . . . you smell . . . wrong," he said angrily. "Why do you smell—"

"McLaggen was there," she told him, shivering in disgust. "Creep kept putting his arm around me. Ginny and I both told him off but I feel like his eyes were crawling all over me and I—"

Remus took a step forward, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her tight against his body. "I don't like his smell on you," he growled through clenched teeth, pushing her back until her knees hit the arm of the sofa, forcing her to sit, at which point he stepped between her thighs.

She swallowed, delighted and overheated by the possessive look in his eyes and the rumbling sound in his chest. "Me either," she breathed. "I want you . . .  _only_ you. Are you in control?" she asked, pressing her palms against his chest.

He groaned at the contact. "Gods, barely," he answered. "But . . . I won't lose myself," he said, understanding her worries. "Just . . . I don't like that someone else touched you and—"

"Me either," she said. "I only ever want  _you_ to touch me."


	22. Chapter 22

**September 14th, 1996**

He stared at her, lost so deep in her words that she had to repeat them. "I only want  _you_ to touch me." When he still didn't move other than to let his chest heave with every breath, she bit her lower lip and whispered, "Remus, please touch me."

The gentle  _please_  from her lips broke him.

He claimed her mouth with a hungry growl and did exactly as she asked; he touched her.

His hands started at her knees and ran up her pleated skirt, dipping beneath the hem to stroke the soft, supple flesh of her thighs. He broke away from the kiss to taste her jaw and ear and neck, sucking on her skin when she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him close against her. She still smelled like the other wizard— _McLaggen_ —and Remus gave in a bit to his inner wolf, rubbing his cheek and hair and mouth against her throat and shoulder to rid her of the stench. He stopped only when he felt her lips against the shell of his ear, and he moaned when she moved them down, licking and sucking at his neck.

His fingers bit into the flesh of her hips, tugging her against him. As hard as his hands might have been, his cock was harder, and he struggled not to rut against her like the animal he so often believed himself to be. His body tensed when he felt her lips dip down to his shoulder, her tongue running over the scar tissue he knew was there. Logically he knew that Hermione would ignore his scars, purposely kiss and touch them as a way of showing him that she didn't care, that she wanted him despite his flaws.  _Logically,_ he knew this. But his hands shook with nervous anticipation and he pulled away from her instinctively the very moment he felt the brush of teeth on his skin.

Remus, still shaking, stared down at the floor shamefully, his whole body tight.

Hermione frowned in confusion. "I . . . Remus if I did something—"

"It's fine," he lied automatically.

"It's clearly not," she said softly. "If you're worried about your scars, I don't care about them. I—"

"Just that one," he said quickly. "It's . . . it was the first." Her gasp let him know that she understood, and he winced, waiting for the pity to show in her eyes.

"I didn't mean to," Hermione said. "I should have paid more attention. I'll be careful in the future." He looked up at the last word in shock, and she smiled at him. "Oh, Remus, do you really think that one mistake on my part would make me not want you anymore? Please don't pull away from me," she implored, reaching her hand out for him.

He returned to her immediately, nuzzling her throat as she threaded her fingers through his hair until he was groaning again at the pleasurable feel of her touch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"So am I," she admitted. "In the future, if something like that . . . please tell me. I never want you to feel . . . I only want you to feel good with me."

He kissed her neck and then hesitantly tilted his own to the side, opposite his scar—Greyback's legacy—and offered himself to her. "I might like . . . but only on  _this_ side," he said in a husky voice as his hands retook their place on her hips, thumbs circling down to brush against the crease between her pelvis and thigh, earning a whimper in return.

Hermione licked her lips and then the skin of his neck, making her way down to his flawless shoulder, gently sucking the skin into her mouth. He groaned in reply and allowed his hands to roam, encouraged when her legs parted further, offering him room to step closer to her. In a daring move, his thumb brushed against the damp fabric of her knickers. "Oh gods," he whispered when he felt her. "You're . . . you're so . . ."  _Wet_ , his brain told him.

"For you," she said, and when his thumb pressed harder during his second stroke of her wet centre, she keened and then lightly bit down on his unmarked shoulder.

Shocked by how good her teeth felt against him this time, Remus's chest rumbled in reply and he took her hips again, pulling her tight against his body, aligning her knicker-clad quim with his erection and pressing against her hard.

"Oh!" Hermione moaned in delighted surprise at the feel of him,  _all_  of him, pressing and rubbing against her, hard and quick and . . . "Oh my . . . oh, Remus we . . . we're in the common room."

He swallowed hard and panted against her hair as he rocked his hips. "You say the word and I swear I'll stop," he whispered. "But . . . if you don't . . . I'm embarrassed to say that I doubt we'll be caught because you . . . you feel too good." There was no way he would last much longer. His body was tight and hard and every inch of him aching due to the fact that just  _looking_ at her had him hard. To touch her . . . to rub against her . . . for her to touch him and moan thanks to his ministrations? Gods, it was maddening.

"Don't stop," she said, and her words spurred him to move faster, harder. He counted each of her breaths and shivered when she tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck, gripping him, holding him as though she'd fall if she released him—not that he would ever let her—as he pushed them both toward orgasm.

"Let go," he whispered against her ear before sucking the lobe between his lips.

Her fingers tightened in his hair and her thighs began to shake. "Remus . . ." she whimpered and then she shattered against him, crying out softly against his neck, pressing her lips on his skin in an attempt to muffle her screams.

Elated, Remus grinned, filled with pride in a way he'd never before felt. She wasn't the first girl he'd brought off, but those moments were usually filled with shame, knowing that he shouldn't have done such a thing, knowing that those girls could never have truly known him. But Hermione . . . Hermione knew him like no other witch ever had . . . ever  _could_. She'd seen the gold in his eyes, the scars on his body, the hunger in his gaze that proved he wasn't always in control. Still, she'd gripped him tight and held him close, knickers soaked, coming at his request—something, he reminded himself, that was likely a well-timed coincidence.

Legs still clutched around his hips as his movements slowed to ease her down from her high, Hermione pulled away from his neck and pressed her forehead against his. "Did . . . did you?" she asked and he shook his head. "I want you to," she said softly. "I want to see you come."

"Oh fuck . . ." Remus groaned at her words, staring in her eyes at the small ring of dark cinnamon that encircled her lust-blown pupils. She smiled in curiosity and excitement when he came moments later, and Remus knew that his eyes had likely shifted when he finally tipped over the edge. He couldn't even feel embarrassed about the slip, the look on her face was positively adorable. He kissed her deep, a kiss of utter and absolute possession. "You don't smell like him anymore," he mumbled against her mouth.

"Mmm . . ." She smiled. "I smell like  _you_."

And she did. She smelled like oranges and rose oil and the musky scent that only Remus could pick up with lupine senses. She smelled like sweat and sex, and her lips were pink and swollen, the telling mark of his kisses. There was the brief flicker of a thought in his head, making him wonder what it would feel like to mark her from the inside. His cock nearly reawakened at the thought.

No matter how Remus felt about her—and he was so very close to admitting it out loud—he was absolutely certain that his wolf was head over tail in love with her.

"My birthday is in a few days," Hermione said with a lazy smile when he stepped away from her, adjusting the bottom of her skirt for her, covering it over her knees once again.

Remus smiled, holding back a wince as he adjusted his trousers, mentally trying to figure out if he could cast a nonverbal  _Scourgify_ without injuring his bits. "What do you want for your birthday?"

Her smile turned into a grin when she hopped down off of the arm of the sofa, placing a kiss against his chin. "An encore."

* * *

**September 16th, 1996**

The Gryffindors gathered around their table for breakfast, but most were too distracted with the  _Daily Prophet_  in Hermione's hands to actually eat. " _Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge has no comment for recent attacks on Muggles by Death Eaters,"_  she read aloud. " _Unavailable for interviews, Minister Fudge has been on a downward spiral to recover from the past year of ignoring the known threat of You-Know-Who. Aurors have been pulled from duty and reassigned to extra security within the Ministry of Magic, but we have to wonder, is the Minister looking out for the well-being of the Wizarding world, or himself?"_

Harry shook his head and sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing, forgiving Fudge. He clearly hasn't learned a damn thing."

"It wasn't like your word against his would make much difference," Ron said while picking at the fruit on his plate that Hermione had put there for him, the sausages and eggs long gone. "He was still—er,  _is_  still the Minister."

Hermione scoffed. "Maybe not for long," she muttered. "Rufus Scrimgeour is trying to get him out of office and take his place."

Harry looked up curiously. "How do you know that?"

Her cheeks flushed and she grimaced. "Oh, I umm . . . I overheard it at Professor Slughorn's little get together," she said, casting a glance in Remus's direction and earning a suspicious expression in reply. "McLaggen's uncle is apparently friends with Rufus Scrimgeour. He was more than happy to tell me all about his connections and—oh, stop that, Remus," she said when her boyfriend growled at the mere mention of Cormac's name. "You know you're the only wizard for me."

" _Wizard_ , is he?"

Everyone turned to look up at the witch in Ravenclaw robes standing in front of the table, glaring down at Hermione. Her hair was pulled back into a braid, but her bangs hung long and thick in front of her face, obscuring her entire forehead.

"Marietta," Hermione greeted coolly.

The girl sneered and gestured to the couple. "How adorable the pair of you are. Not-even-close-to-Beauty," she said, glaring at Hermione and then turning her attention to Remus, "and the beast."

Ron snorted. "You're one to talk about being ugly, Edgecomb."

Marietta's face turned red. "That's  _her_ fault!" she shrieked, pointing a finger in Hermione's direction. "You Gryffindors get away with absolutely everything, just because you're the headmaster's favourites and friends with Potter. You think you can attack whomever you want for whatever reasons—"

"Like betrayal?" Neville said, his face cold and hard compared to his normally sweet demeanour.

"Shut up, Longbottom! No one cares what you think!" Marietta snapped at him and quickly turned her attention back to Hermione. "You'll pay for what you did to me, Hermione Granger."

Remus's eyes were shifting gold against his will, and he had to forcibly hold back the snarl in his voice. "I'd be careful before threatening my girlfriend."

Marietta scoffed. "Or what? You'll bite me?" she asked and then grinned when Remus flinched at the words. "It may only be suspected now, but I've already written my mother. She works at the Ministry and she's going to file a formal complaint with the Governors of the school board to have any and all  _threats_ removed from Hogwarts."

"You would know all about threats at Hogwarts, wouldn't you, Marietta? Remember last year when one of them  _taught_ us and you sold us out to her?" Hermione said defensively, reaching under the table to grip Remus's hand in support. "And don't you dare threaten Remus, you ignorant little—"

"Yeah, go back to your own table, Edgecomb," Parvati said as she stood from her place down at the other end of the table to join the group, Lavender at her side.

The blonde nodded in agreement. "And for the love of Circe, learn a proper Glamour Charm. Your face is turning me off my appetite."

Marietta screamed, "It's not my fault! Hermione did it!"

Lavender smirked. "We know. We were in Dumbledore's Army, just like you. And as you can see, our skin is still fucking flawless, you traitorous little hag."

Parvati wiggled her fingers. "Run along now."

Marietta looked to be on the verge of tears, but her fury was clearly overpowering the urge to cry. She threw a rude gesture in Lavender and Parvati's direction before storming out of the Great Hall. Ron and Harry laughed at her dramatic exit and smiled up at their Housemates, both scooting down the bench to offer the witches a place to sit.

"You didn't have to do that," Hermione told her roommates.

"We absolutely did," Lavender insisted with a smile as she sat down beside Ron. "Jinxed paper or not, we all swore oaths to keep Dumbledore's Army a secret. It would be one thing if she actually looked sorry for what she did and everything that happened because of it, but she's just a bitter bitch with a stick up her . . ." she began to say but then turned pink and smiled innocently at Ron who was grinning at her. "I mean . . ."

"No, no, go on," he encouraged her in amusement and she giggled in reply.

"Funny you should say that, Lavender," Hermione said, interrupting the little moment. "The jinx on her face would actually fade if she showed any sign of remorse for what she did."

Parvati laughed. "Oh, that's bloody brilliant, Hermione."

Lavender nodded in agreement. "Just ignore everything that horrible girl said, Remus," she said, turning her attention to the boy across the table from her. "Professor Lupin was a wonderful teacher, regardless of his . . . well . . . condition. And everyone's knows that  _you're_ not a werewolf. It's not contracted genetically . . . er . . . right?" she asked, looking to Hermione for confirmation.

Hermione sighed softly, knowing this topic was a sensitive one. Still, she couldn't just leave the question hanging in the air. "It's not hereditary, no. Still, people shouldn't act like having lycanthropy is a . . . a sin," she said angrily. "Werewolves have to be attacked in order to contract it. It would be like people ostracising Harry for that scar on his forehead instead of practically deifying him," she said and watched as Harry clearly began contemplating such a thing, looking halfway between horrified and intrigued. "Lycanthropy is not something people should be made to be ashamed of and anyone who acts as though it is, should be . . . I don't know . . . hit with . . . something."

"Never took you for violence, Hermione," Parvati said with a chuckle.

"You don't remember third year?" Lavender asked. "Oh my gods, I overheard Susan Bones say that Hannah Abbott told her that Mandy Brocklehurst eavesdropped on Tracey Davis who was told by Daphne Greengrass that our Hermione here broke Draco Malfoy's nose."

Hermione ignored tales of her violent past, instead turning her attention to Remus who had his head bowed and his gaze firmly set on the table in front of him. She could tell that his breathing was irregular, just this side of panicked from the look of his expression. "Are you all right?" she whispered.

"Umm . . . will you all excuse me, please?" Remus said, not looking at anyone as he pushed himself away from the table and gathered his things.

Hermione frowned. "Remus?"

He glanced down at her and then sighed, leaning to kiss her cheek. "I'll see you in Charms, love," he said and then made his way out of the Great Hall, leaving his girlfriend with an anxious look on her face.

Lavender was beaming with excitement. "He calls you 'love'? That's so romantic," she cooed. "I wish  _I_ had someone so very big and strong to tell me sweet things," she said, her voice a bit louder than normal as she turned her gaze on Ron who wasn't paying a bit of attention to her, his focus on the  _Daily Prophet_  in front of him, looking at the most recent Quidditch scores.

* * *

Neville stepped through the portrait hole with a furrowed brow, looking for his friend. "Remus?" he called out, searching back and forth across the common room.

He'd done what he could to stand with his friends when Marietta Edgecomb approached their table, but he noticed it wasn't until Lavender Brown had insisted that Remus wasn't a werewolf—as though it would be horrible to think such a thing—that his friend finally stood from the table, desperate to leave. Neville had been quick to follow.

He frowned when he finally spotted Remus perched on the window ledge, looking out over the view of the grounds. "Remus, you okay? Don't let what that girl said get to you."

Remus turned and looked at his friend, eyes red and forehead crinkled from worry. "I can't help it," he said in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. "Everyone's going to . . . fuck!" he shouted in anger.

Neville's eyes widened, shocked by the outburst. "Woah. Are you . . . look, I know we've only known each other for a short while but . . . but you can trust me, y'know."

Remus stared at him suspiciously. "What do you know?"

Neville sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets nervously. "Don't get mad but . . . I've been helping Professor Sprout during my free periods y'see and well . . . she put me in charge of a few specific plants. Some dangerous stuff, you know? She says that I'm a dab hand at handling potion ingredients . . ." he said with a small smile of pride before adding, "at least  _before_ they're cut and added to cauldrons."

Remus swallowed nervously and slid down off of the window seat. "What are you saying?"

Neville stood tall and held his chin up. "It's my job to tend to the aconite."

Remus forced himself to appear nonplussed. "So?"

"So she had me plant double the normal numbers she keeps on hand," Neville explained, shaking his head at the way Remus stood so defensively. "And last week, Professor Snape came by and took trimmings. Aconite loses its potency when it's dried. So whatever Professor Snape needed it for, he was making fresh. He's brewing Wolfsbane Potion, right? Hermione told me once that he's the one who made it for Professor Lupin. And now . . ." Neville said, holding his hands out in front of him as a sign of surrender, "don't get angry, please, but . . . he's making it for you as well, isn't he?" he asked, a look of kindness-fuelled worry in his eyes.

Remus stared at his friend in silence, a deep ache in his chest remembering the first time that James had come to him in a similar way just after the beginning of their second year. Remus had been a terrible liar, and James and Sirius were shockingly good at spotting his tells. It didn't take long for the pair of them to figure him out. Remus had been so terrified of their reactions, of being sent away, of being hated, that when James had embraced him and asked him if there was anything he could to do make it better, Remus had openly wept.

He frowned and nodded his head. "Yeah. I'm a werewolf," he quietly admitted.

Neville's eyes widened as though he was shocked he actually got the confession out on the first try. "Wow. That's . . . that's rough," he said. "I'm sorry you have to go through . . . well . . . everything. Is there anything I can do?"

Remus closed his eyes tightly and fought back nostalgic tears. "Short of becoming an Animagus? No."

Neville blinked. "What's that got to do with—"

"It . . . it helps to not be alone during the umm . . . the full moon," Remus said, clearing his throat and dragging his palms across his eyes. "I'm less . . . less prone to attack—"

"Attack?"

"—myself."

"Oh," Neville said, not hiding the sigh of relief that fell out of his mouth. "Does Hermione know?" he asked and then rolled his eyes. "What am I saying? Of course Hermione knows."

The corners of Remus's mouth turned slightly upward. "Yeah, she knows. Sometimes I don't understand how she can . . . bear to even look at me."

Neville frowned. " _I'm_  looking at you just fine."

Remus smirked and then shook his head, doing his best to stay on topic and not fall to pieces over the fact that Neville hadn't gone running. "Hermione looks at me a . . . a certain way."

A pink blush filled Neville's cheeks and he chuckled, awkwardly running a hand through his hair. "Oh, right. No offence, but I don't think  _I'll_ be looking at you like  _that_ ," he said with a laugh and smiled when Remus joined in. "To be honest though, it has nothing to do with the werewolf thing. More of the umm . . ."

"Cock thing?" Remus offered.

"Ha! Yeah," Neville said, gripping his side from laughing so hard. "Plus, I'd hate to ruin our friendship."

When the laughter between them finally died down, Remus didn't even flinch when Neville put a hand on his shoulder. He, instead, sighed in relief—a weight lifted. "You're a good friend, Neville. Gods, I just stormed out of there like a child," he groaned. "Hermione's probably already worrying herself sick. Might even be making protest signs and plotting to stand outside Ravenclaw Tower, declaring the House of Rowena to be prejudiced against those afflicted with lycanthropy."

Neville snorted. "Don't worry about Hermione. I'll tell her that I saw you and you're fine."

"Thanks, mate."

"And it should go without saying," Neville insisted, "but I'll say it anyway . . . your secret is safe with me."

* * *

A short while later, Neville left Gryffindor Tower and nearly tumbled into Hermione on the large, shifting staircase when he wasn't paying attention to where he was going. The two laughed and tried to steady themselves as the staircase moved again, in a direction that neither needed to go. "Remus is fine," Neville offered and then smiled when Hermione visibly relaxed. "He just needed some time to himself, I think."

Hermione smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, Neville."

"You're welcome."

They stepped off of one staircase and onto another just as it started to move. "Hey, Neville? You're still assisting Professor Sprout with the greenhouses for the second and third years, right?"

He grinned brightly, excited to talk to someone other than Remus about his favourite subject without them rolling their eyes. "Yeah, it's been great! I mean, I wish I could have continued with Transfiguration," he admitted sadly. "I've been  _loads_ better at it since I got my own wand instead of using my dad's old one. But I'm well rid of Potions. I like filling the extra free time in the greenhouses."

Hermione couldn't help but beam excitedly for her friend who had spent years looking like he was expecting the rest of the school—and perhaps the world—to walk right over him. Confidence looked good on Neville, she decided. "I'm so happy for you, Neville. I know you can't formally take a N.E.W.T. level Transfiguration class, but I'd be happy to help you learn new things when I have time available."

He chuckled. "You're going to have time available?"

Hermione blushed, embarrassed. "Well . . . er . . ."

"I'm just . . . I'm just teasing, Hermione," he said with an awkward smile. "I appreciate the offer. It's very kind of you. Oh, why did you want to know about the second and third year greenhouses?"

The red in her cheeks deepened and she cleared her throat before whispering. "Umm . . . I was wondering if you could help me get something."

Neville frowned. "Like steal?" he asked, immediately reminded of every time in the past that Harry, Ron, or Hermione had been the cause of getting him into trouble by mere association. Generally, they had a good reason for it, but Neville had spent one too many detentions with Snape to be completely trusting of their motives without some sort of explanation.

"Unfortunately, yes," Hermione said. "I might consider borrowing from Professor Slughorn's stores, but I need  _fresh_ ingredients and he doesn't seem to keep the best quality on hand."

"Don't you just usually nick things from Professor Snape?" Neville asked with a raised brow and an amused smirk.

Hermione's eyes widened and she took on a haughty expression. "That was one time and—"

Neville laughed softly but then sighed in exasperation. "I'm just . . . I'm really not very good at teasing, am I?" he asked.

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "It's new."

Neville nodded, putting his hands in his pockets as the staircase stopped moving, allowing them both to find their footing on the ground floor. "What can I get for you, Hermione? Name it and it's yours," he said.

She nervously bit her lower lip and then looked side to side to make certain no one overheard her when she whispered, "Mandrake leaves."


	23. Chapter 23

**September 19th, 1996**

The morning of Hermione's birthday dawned brightly, and she met her friends at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, surprised that she was the last one to arrive. She grinned at the sight of her friends waiting for her with small gifts, a large platter of waffles covered in whipped cream, and various bowls of fruit. Fruit wasn't a typical Hogwarts breakfast item, so she looked to Remus with a raised brow and he smiled at her.

"I had a little chat with the house-elves," he explained. "Did you know you have a reputation with them?" he asked, standing up and kissing her cheek while everyone else chuckled. "They seemed very happy to offer what, I can only assume, is a waffle treaty of peace. They all wish you the happiest of birthdays and request that you not try to free any of them."

She rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly before taking her seat and glaring at Ron and Harry who were laughing the loudest. "You're both lucky that it's my birthday and I'm in a good mood."

"How does it feel being of age?" Ginny asked. "You get to do magic outside of school now."

"You're so lucky," Lavender said with a heavy sigh. "My birthday isn't until spring. May 8th," she clarified and looked at Ron pointedly.

Everyone smiled at Ron's obliviousness as they all plated up their breakfast, making room for Luna who joined them, handing over a small present wrapped in a copy of the Quibbler. Hermione smiled politely at the Ravenclaw, opening the gift which appeared to be a necklace made out of dried flowers and acorns. "It's lovely, Luna, thank you. I'll . . . wear it often."

"Oh, don't do that," Luna insisted. "It's only meant for Saturdays. If you wear it too often you'll attract hummingbirds. They like to drink the good thoughts from your ears."

Hermione stared at the girl awkwardly while Harry chuckled and grinned at the blonde.

Waffles devoured, Ron and Harry finished up a few last minute sentences for an essay they'd procrastinated on, occasionally asking Hermione and Remus questions as they wrote. "I hate Conjuration. I can conjure water and other liquids, but not food. That's mental," Ron complained.

"That's the law," Hermione said with a smirk as Remus caught a grape in his mouth that she tossed to him.

"Says who?" Ron asked with a pout.

"Gamp," Remus replied and then shook his head. "Honestly, Hermione, if you're not even going to try and catch them . . ." He grinned when she nearly fell over trying to catch a grape as he threw it to her. "Do you know how hard Ron is struggling to write down the laws of Elemental Transfiguration regarding food, and here you are, wasting it."

"You're wretched," Hermione said, laughing when Remus pulled her onto his lap, kissing her chastely. They both ignored the fake vomiting noises coming from their friends across the table.

"Post's coming," Harry said, looking up as Hedwig swooped down, dropping two large envelopes in front of him before snatching some leftover eggs off of his plate. "Letters from Sirius and Lupin. Here, Remus."

Remus grinned and snatched the envelope, offering a quick, "Thanks," before tearing it open and eagerly reading.

Hermione stared at him. "Is everything all right?"

"What?" He looked up at her. "Oh, yeah, just fine. He umm . . . my dad says that he and Sirius will be coming up in a few weeks. Tonks has been assigned to Hogsmeade and they're coming up here with her. They've got business at Hogwarts and also wanted to visit," he said, palming something as it fell out of the parchment.

"Sirius and Lupin back at Hogwarts together?" Harry chuckled, setting his own letter to the side as he finished the last few touches on his essay. "Should we be worried?"

"The last time they were here together they were students," Neville commented thoughtfully.

Ron shook his head. "The  _last_ time they were here together, the Fat Lady was traumatised, Dementors were posted everywhere, Hermione had a nervous breakdown, I broke my leg, and then found out that I'd been sharing my bed with, and carrying around, a creepy man in my pockets."

Lavender looked up, brows raised to her hairline. "You what?"

Ron flushed, realising what he'd said. "I said umm . . . I said that Hermione had a nervous breakdown."

Hermione scoffed. "Ron exaggerates," she told Remus.

Lavender stared at Ron. "Go back to the creepy man in your pockets."

"What? I . . . it's a . . . a Muggle saying," Ron lied. "Not an actual man, y'know. I think I said it wrong, did I say it wrong Hermione?" he asked, eyes wide as he silently implored her to help him.

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes at her friend. "There's  _so_ much wrong with what you just said. And I did  _not_ have a nervous breakdown," she insisted.

Lavender, annoyed that Ron was now ignoring her, turned her attention to Hermione. "Was that when you cried and stormed out of Divination because you failed the class?"

"All right!" Hermione smacked her hands on the table. "First of all, I did NOT cry, and second of all, I did NOT fail, and it doesn't matter because Divination is—is . . ." She paused when she saw the look of offence on Lavender's face, remembering how very fond of Professor Trelawney the girl was. Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I just had a bit too much on my plate that year, and that is all."

In an attempt to distract her, Remus held open his palm. "Happy birthday?"

Hermione looked down at his hand and gasped at the sight of a pretty gold necklace sitting there with a small pendant on the end of it. "Oh, Remus . . . this is beautiful!"

Harry frowned. "When did you have time to go shopping?"

"I didn't. I owled Lupin," he said, ignoring the strange way that several of the other Gryffindors looked at him curiously when he called his supposed father by their shared surname, "and asked if there was anything that he'd be willing to . . . umm . . . this belonged to my mother. He said it was all right that I have it . . . he has other things to remind him of her, but I wanted something . . . I wanted to give you something beautiful," he told Hermione, taking it from her fingers and slipped it around her neck, breathing in her lovely scent when she pulled her long hair to the side, allowing him room to clasp the necklace.

"Remus, you didn't have to . . . but . . . it is very beautiful," she said. "Thank you."

"It's charmed," he whispered. "It warms up in the umm . . . in the moonlight."

She smiled and touched the pendant as it hung between her breasts. "I'll wear it always . . . and think of you."

Ron sighed loudly. "I didn't get you anything, 'Mione. I thought we'd all get stuff in Hogsmeade like we've done the past couple of years. Didn't know that Remus here would try and show the rest of us up," he said with a smirk.

Hermione laughed. "That's okay."

"Do you want my toast?" Ron offered the half-eaten piece of bread to her.

"What the hell, Remus!?"

Everyone turned and looked at Harry who was standing, letter in hand, glaring down at Remus.

"What's going on?" Neville asked, brows furrowed.

"This tosser turned my . . . my . . ." Harry began to say, but his cheeks turned red. When Remus smirked at him in reply, Harry bristled. "You git!"

"Sirius tattled on me, then?" Remus chuckled.

Hermione frowned. "What are the two of you going on about? Give me that," she insisted, snatching Harry's letter from his hand. "' _Dear Harry, sorry to hear about your blue . . .'_ Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, her own face turning a bit pink. She quietly tried to hand Harry back his letter, only to have it intercepted by Ron who immediately shared it with Neville. Hermione winced and avoided eye contact as she tried not to laugh. "Umm . . . do you umm . . . do you know how to change them back?"

"Yes,  _thank you_!" Harry huffed. "Sirius included the counterspell!"

She bit her lower lip. "Well, that's . . . you're terrible, honestly, Remus," she said, pursing her lips as she turned her attention to her boyfriend, who looked far too proud of himself for his little prank.

He grinned. "I know."

She stood up, shaking her head in exasperation at the boys, though she could tell Harry wasn't properly angry, only a bit chafed at having been one-upped by an  _actual_ Marauder. "I'll see you in class," she told Remus before kissing his cheek. "I'm going to go and send a thank you letter to my parents."

The moment that Hermione was gone, followed soon after by Lavender and the other girls, Neville leant across the table and laughed. "Did he really charm your bollocks blue?"

Harry glared at Remus in reply, throwing him two fingers.

"What'd you do that for?" Ron asked, laughing as Harry looked over the letter, memorising the counter-spell. "Not that I'm against it. I think it's hilarious. I've been wondering why Harry's been taking showers at night instead of the morning. Need a bit of privacy mate?"

"Piss off," Harry mumbled. "I went to Madam Pomfrey, y'know. She said she hadn't heard of such a thing happening in  _decades_. Suggested that it might be hereditary since my dad apparently had it once or twice." He glowered. "Should have known it was you. Madam Pomfrey was the one who suggested I write Sirius and ask if he remembered how my dad got it to go away. Now that I think about it . . . she was smiling when she said it," he added with an annoyed expression.

Remus laughed and Neville and Ron both joined in. "To answer your question, Ron, Harry had interrupted a moment between me and my witch."

Neville turned bright red and then tried to hide his embarrassed grin. "Oh, that's . . . that's rather brilliant, actually."

Remus shrugged. "Don't be a cockblock."

"Oi!" Ron said. "That is still Hermione you're talking about, y'know."

"I know," Remus replied, not looking the least bit put off by Ron's sudden defensiveness. "Hermione, who is officially an adult as of this morning. Hermione, who is a smart witch that is fully capable of making her own decisions. I swear to you both that I'd never harm her in any way."

Ron sighed and shrugged, nodding his head. "Yeah, all right, fine," he agreed. "Can you teach that charm to the rest of us?"

Harry snorted, looking like he'd calmed down a bit, finally finding humour in the situation. "Yeah, and then  _I'll_ teach you the counterspell."

Remus smiled at his friends. "Can do. Forgive me?" he asked Harry.

Harry nodded his head after a moment of deep thought. "I s'pose."

Remus breathed out a sigh of relief and leant forward. "Good. Because I need your help. What's the password to the prefect's bathroom?"

* * *

The sun had set and, after getting Ron's help to figure out the prefect patrol schedule and borrowing the Marauder's Map from Harry, Remus lead a blindfolded Hermione through the door to the prefect's bathroom with an anxious grin on his face.

Hermione inhaled and smiled at the familiar scent. " _You_  are not allowed to be in here," she whispered, her words echoing softly off of the walls.

Remus chuckled from behind her, flicking his wand at the door and locking it. "Are you going to report me?" he asked, removing the blindfold.

Hermione looked down at the already full bath and then turned to catch Remus's heated gaze. "What are we doing here?" she asked with a heavy breath.

"I asked you what you wanted for your birthday; you requested an encore."

Hermione licked her bottom lip before pulling it between her teeth, forcefully trying to stop her cheeks from flushing, but failing miserably. "In . . . in the bath?"

Remus brushed his knuckles against her cheek and sighed. "As pretty as that blush is, I transfigured something for you to wear," he said, reaching into his robes and removing a folded up bit of fabric. "I can be a bit of a gentleman when I try."

Hermione snatched the fabric from his fingers and let the swimming costume unfold, eyeing the two-piece with a raised brow before looking back at her boyfriend who appeared the very picture of innocence. He examined the suit with interest as though he'd not created it himself and was surprised that it was two pieces instead of one. She rolled her eyes before twirling her finger in a circle. "Turn around," she told him and waited several long seconds after he'd done so, before removing her school robes and uniform and slipping into the white bikini.

She cleared her throat when she was done and tugged on his shoulder. When Remus turned and looked her over, his mouth fell open. "Wow. You're . . . gods, you're so beautiful," he said and then kissed her hard and deep, unable to stop himself from touching her, tasting her.

"Your turn," she said with a laugh, breaking their kiss.

Remus's smile instantly faded. "Umm . . . Hermione, you know that—" he tried to say, but Hermione cut him off by snatching up his hand and placing it palm down against the skin of her ribs, right over the long, purple scar.

"I don't care," she insisted.

He bit his lip and nodded, shocked that he hadn't paid much attention to her scar, too caught up in the amount of skin she'd so willingly exposed to him.  _His_ scars, however, were more numerous and vicious in appearance than hers.

She'd offered him a bit of privacy as he pulled off his robes and shirt, slipping out of his trousers and shoes and then transfiguring his black pants into a pair of loose swim trunks. His arms crossed over his chest. Nervously fidgeting fingers brushed against the deep claw marks that cascaded across his abdomen and up the left side of his chest and mangled shoulder, stopping halfway up his neck. There were smaller ones along his arms and legs and a few particularly nasty ones on his back, but nothing, he noted, so awful as what he'd seen on Lupin's bare frame.

Eventually, he cleared his throat, allowing Hermione to turn and look at him.

Her gaze latched onto his chest, and her lips parted. Remus swallowed nervously before noting that her pupils were dilated and her heart rate had increased. He was almost confused until she reached out and touched him, running her fingers up and down the centre of his chest and then south, brushing against the sparse hair of his abdomen leading down beneath the band of his trunks.

"You're beautiful too," she whispered. "Perfect. And just for me."

He'd meant this surprise to be slow and special. A relaxing bath made a bit more appropriate by the restriction of clothing. He'd planned to rub her shoulders, wash her hair, massage her feet, and then engage in quite a bit of snogging if she'd allow it. Somehow, his plans had gone out the window along with his self-control, and Hermione was in his arms with her legs wrapped around his waist as he lowered them both into the steaming water filled with pink and blue bubbles.

Her head tilted back, purposely giving him access to her throat. Remus couldn't help but wonder if she'd been reading up on werewolves, or wolves in general, because the action stirred something in his chest that inflated his male ego on a primal level, and it took every ounce of strength not to drag his teeth against her skin in the heat of the moment.

Had his hands not been cupping her arse when the strings of her top were loosed, Remus might have thought that he'd untied it himself. They were a perfect handful, or at least they looked that way; her breasts were perky and wet, a few bubbles from the bath clinging to her skin, moving slowly down the slopes, drawing his focus to the peaks. He almost didn't believe this was actually happening to him. Was he still Remus Lupin? Had he somehow become Sirius Black in the middle of the night because this girl—this delectable witch—knew who and what he was, had seen the animal within, had witnessed the aftermath of the full moon, had looked at his scars and . . . and . . . and now she was naked and beautiful and presently rocking her hips in a way that pressed and moved against his very obvious erection.

"Oh, sweet fucking . . . mother of Merlin . . ." Remus moaned, eyes closed and unprepared for when she pressed harder and then wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close so she could kiss the breath from his lungs.

Not knowing how far she'd want to take things, or how much harder she was planning on rubbing against him, Remus broke away from the kiss, determined to taste her skin before he embarrassed himself. When he pulled a nipple into his mouth, their simultaneous groans synced up in perfect harmony, though hers was broken off by a sudden gasp when he released the pebbled nub and then stroked it in long, slow laps with his tongue.

She moaned his name, "Remus . . ." and began to beg, "Please . . . please, I need—need . . ." Her hands dipped beneath the water, diving between their bodies. The fingers of one hand disappeared into the bottoms of her bikini, and Remus watched in awe as the palm of her other hand cupped the hardness in his own trunks.

She squeezed just a little too hard, and Remus hissed and pivoted his hips. "Sorry," he said. "Just umm . . . awkward angle. Can . . . can I . . .?" he asked the unfinished question, dragging the tips of his fingers against her inner thigh.

"Gods, yes."

He pushed the fabric to the side and nervously ran his fingers over her exposed folds, obscured from his vision beneath the water. Unable to see, Remus could still feel her and . . .  _fuck,_ she felt . . . so wet. Even in the bath, he could tell the difference between the water and . . . and the evidence of everything she felt for him. Proof that she wanted him, and badly if he was a decent judge of the way she whimpered when he circled his index finger around her entrance.

She begged only once more before he pushed two fingers inside of her, pausing when she winced and grabbed his wrist. "Too much," she said, and he immediately withdrew one, slowly returning the single digit and watching as her brief moment of discomfort washed away from her expression, leaving behind the most perfect picture of wanton beauty he'd ever seen. He stroked her slowly, admiring the way her eyes fluttered and her jaw tensed. Even her teeth chattered once when he hit a certain spot inside that she seemed to like  _very_ much. Unfortunately, he lost the spot almost immediately and spent far too long concentrating on trying to relocate it.

"This is bad," Hermione said, reaching her hand into his trunks and touching him, skin to skin, before pressing her lips against his.

Remus nodded in agreement and moaned, "So bad," into her mouth.

"I don't particularly enjoy breaking the rules, but—Oh!—I  _do_ enjoy  _that_."

He grinned and kissed her jaw, following the line all the way back to her ear. " _You're_  not breaking the rules.  _You're_ allowed to be in here. I'm breaking the rules, and I'm very okay with it," he said, circling his thumb around her clit and feeling his heart race when her body shook against him.

"I'm a . . . a prefect," she said, her words sounding almost like an argument. "I should be reporting you for trespassing and being out past curfew."

"You're not on duty," he reminded her.

Hermione moaned and threw her head back. "Good point."

He cupped a breast and squeezed. "And your badge seems to be missing from your attire, Prefect Granger."

She giggled. "My attire seems to be missing from my person. I think you are a very bad influence on me, Remus Lupin. There's something about you that just gets inside of—"

"Inside?" Remus asked and then pushed his finger deeper. "Like that?"

"Oh!" Hermione keened, gripping the edge of the bath with one hand and his shoulder with the other.  _Found it!_  Remus thought when he saw her teeth chatter again. "Yes! I mean . . . Not that," she babbled. "You just . . . Oh, piss it. Harder, Remus!"

* * *

**September 27th, 1996**

"Think good thoughts," Hermione told Remus, kissing him sweetly as she left him outside the castle, clutching the slowly warming pendant necklace in her hand, watching as he turned to step beneath the Whomping Willow which had been paused, not by a stick or a charm or a rat Animagus like he was used to, but by Hermione's cat.

"Thanks, mate," he said, scratching the top of the beast's head before disappearing beneath the tree and making the long walk to the Shrieking Shack.

_Think good thoughts_. He sighed heavily and tried to remember Hermione's birthday, a little over a week earlier. He'd made her come, twice, and he swore that he'd never seen anything so glorious in all of his life. A part of him wanted to tell his friends, the natural inclination to brag—though in less of a "you wouldn't believe this witch I just got off" way and more of an "I may have just seen God." He couldn't tell a soul, however. James and Peter were gone and Sirius likely thought of Hermione as a daughter, or at the very least, a niece or younger sister. Harry and Ron were far too protective, Seamus far too provocative, and Remus had a feeling that if he told Neville anything about his sex life, his friend would never be able to look at Hermione again without blushing.

So he kept the moment to himself and smiled, feeling that it was sacred now, just his. His and Hermione's. His good thought and happy memory, however, did absolutely nothing for him now as he reached the Shrieking Shack, angry about his condition. He should have been back at the castle, playing Exploding Snap with his friends, studying for the Defence exam that Snape had warned them about, and then snogging his girlfriend until their bodies became permanently attached to the common room sofa.

But instead, he was here.

Remus angrily kicked the post of the old, worn bed and then began removing his clothing. Not undressing for his witch, as he'd done in the prefect's bathroom, but for his mistress,  _the moon_.

And what a cruel mistress she was.

* * *

**September 28th, 1996**

Remus woke up in the Hospital Wing, the taste of Pain Potion on his tongue but the smell of oranges and rose oil filling him up. Without opening his eyes, he reached out, his fingers touching soft curls. "Hermione," he whispered.

She turned her head and kissed his palm. "How are you feeling?"

He finally opened his eyes to see her clutching her pendant tightly in one hand. Her eyes had dark circles beneath them that made him frown. "Did you sleep at all?"

She shook her head. "Don't worry about me," she insisted. "I'll . . . I'll get used to it. But it was your first moon back at Hogwarts and . . . well, you know me."

He gave her a small smile, grateful that her compassion didn't contain pity. "It was the same as always. It's . . . it's harder without Sirius and . . . I'll be fine. Just sore and tired for the next day or so."

She nodded. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He shook his head but pulled her close to him, rubbing his nose against her jaw and hair. "I like you being here with me."

Wrapping an arm gently across his chest, Hermione exhaled. "Then I won't go anywhere."

Their moment of peace was interrupted, however, when the curtains were pulled back and Harry stood awkwardly at the foot of Remus's bed. "Hermione? Remus? Umm . . . we may have a problem."

Remus frowned. "What's wrong?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair in frustration, a look of guilt on his face. "Apparently Marietta Edgecomb wasn't bluffing about getting proof. She doesn't have much to go on, but I guess she saw you go out to the Whomping Willow last night, and then watched Madam Pomfrey bring you back in this morning. With everyone already suspecting . . . and last night being a full moon . . ."

Hermione gasped and Remus stiffened. "How bad is it?"

Harry awkwardly shrugged. "Everyone's asking a lot of questions. Ron, Neville, and I were pretty much trampled at breakfast by every House except for Slytherins. They were surprisingly quiet."

"Draco's keeping them that way," Remus suspected aloud. "I imagine if they even cared enough to bring it up, he told them to keep quiet about it."

Harry raised a brow. "Why would Malfoy do that?"

"Because he and I are . . . not friends, exactly, but . . ." Remus groaned and sat up, rubbing his hands down his face. "What do we do? Do you think Dumbledore will . . . what if everyone writes to their parents and the Ministry gets involved and—"

"You're not going anywhere, Remus," Hermione declared. "Hogwarts is your home. Harry, I have an idea. Remember how we fought the  _Daily Prophet_  last year?"

"You want to blackmail Rita Skeeter again?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. People are suspecting things and they're going to come up with their own conclusions. I say we fight rumours with the truth."

Remus frowned. "You want me to confess?"

She turned and looked at him, touching his cheek tenderly with an expression of worry.

"That might work, actually," Harry said. "We could get the D.A. together, meet up in the Room of Requirement and just tell them. Tell people that we can trust. Everyone in the D.A.—aside from Edgecomb and prats like Zacharias Smith—are influential in their Houses. They might be able to sway people to keep quiet about it, apparently like Malfoy's doing in Slytherin."

Remus swallowed down his nerves and fear and sighed. "I trust you both."


	24. Chapter 24

**September 28th, 1996**

The members of Dumbledore's Army gathered together in the Room of Requirement, and Remus did his best to ignore their whisperings and questions and the way they physically avoided him as he walked around the room, exhausted and sore, looking at the Defence books that lined nearby shelves. Upon first entering the room, he'd been bombarded with questions until Hermione loudly declared that they would do this in an orderly manner, and Ron had added a quick, "Yeah, so everyone shut the fuck up!"

When the last member of the D.A. arrived, Remus moved to Hermione's side, finding himself settled between his girlfriend and Neville, with Harry and Ron flanking them.

"So it's true?"

"He's a werewolf?"

"Isn't it dangerous for him to be here?"

"He has a name," Hermione snapped at the three Ravenclaws—Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Terry Boot. "It's Remus, and he's a person standing right here. Yes, I said  _person_. There are a lot of myths about lycanthropy and we're hoping to dispel them here today so that the gossip can die down and we can all go about our normal lives."

"Answer the question then, Granger," Anthony said. "Isn't it dangerous for  _Remus_ to be here?"

"Yes and no," she replied. "He's just like the rest of us every other day of the month. One night he becomes a werewolf, that's it."

"Yeah, well, that's enough to get the rest of us killed, isn't it?" a Hufflepuff asked.

"Shut up, Smith," Ginny snapped.

"Remus takes a potion leading up to the full moon," Neville jumped in. "It's brewed by Professor Snape and it keeps him fairly harmless. Just in case, Remus locks himself up outside of the school, behind magical wards that keep everyone safe."

"How can we trust that this works?" Katie Bell asked. "No offence," she said with a smile, looking right at Remus. "I don't have a problem with you or anything, I'm curious about the potion is all."

Harry stepped forward. "Because Professor Lupin was here for a full year and not a single person knew that he was a werewolf until someone in Slytherin leaked his secret and he was forced to resign. A full school year with a full moon every month, and the only person to even suspect he was a werewolf was Hermione," he said, smiling over at his best friend proudly.

"Professor Lupin was a student here as well," Neville added. "He lived at Hogwarts for seven years and went through the same process as Remus every month. No one was ever hurt."

Everyone fell quiet for a moment, and Remus tried to focus his breathing to keep his stress levels low. Already it was going better than he'd imagined. No one, for instance, had transfigured a pitchfork or a torch to run him out of Hogwarts.

"Are you a werewolf because your father is a werewolf?" Dennis Creevey asked curiously.

Remus shook his head. "No, it's not hereditary. You have to be bitten."

Someone in the back gasped loudly. "Professor Lupin bit his own son!?"

"Don't be stupid, Macmillan," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"But he just said that—"

"I was . . . the werewolf that attacked me was . . ." Remus began, remembering that the first time he had to tell this story it had been to his three best friends. James had kicked everyone else out of the Gryffindor common room and Sirius stood guard while Peter fetched treats from the kitchen. Remus told them all what had happened to him, how he became a werewolf, all while in the privacy and comfort of Gryffindor Tower, surrounded by friends and treacle tart. This . . . conference . . . was much different. "The werewolf that attacked me . . . his name is Fenrir Greyback . . ."

"The Death Eater?" Padma Patil asked, eyes wide.

"He's not a Death Eater," Harry said. "Not really. But he does run in Voldemort's circle."

"He umm . . . he's the one who . . . who attacked my . . . my dad," Remus went on. "He's the one who infected him."

Lavender, who had already tried apologising to Remus multiple times that morning for any and all remarks she may or may not have said out loud in regards to werewolves at any time since meeting him, shushed her whispering friends so she could ask, "What happened?"

Nervously, Remus scratched at his left shoulder, feeling the familiar scar tissue beneath his robes. "He umm . . . the same thing that happened to my dad . . . happened to me. My . . . my grandfather worked in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He . . . he . . . most werewolves hate their condition and want to hide away to keep others safe. We don't want to hurt anyone," he insisted with sincere eyes. "But . . . the way we're treated by the rest of the Wizarding world . . . it's hard not to feel angry. Some werewolves get very angry and embrace the wolf. Greyback takes his anger out on humans, biting them on purpose. Decades ago, he murdered . . . a lot of people . . . children . . . and my grandfather said some very nasty things about werewolves. Greyback took vengeance and bit . . . bit my father. He was . . . he was four."

"Professor Lupin has been a werewolf since he was only four?" Parvati asked, bringing her hands up to her mouth in horror. "That's horrible."

"What happened to you?" Colin Creevey quietly asked.

Remus frowned and looked down at the ground, exhaling when he felt Hermione's fingers thread through his. "The same thing.  _Exact_ same thing. Greyback hated my father, attacked me because of it."

Everyone fell quiet, most frowning and looking at their shoes with guilty or embarrassed looks on their faces. Some in the back still whispered to one another.

"Do you see?" Hermione interrupted. "Remus is no more responsible for his condition than anyone else who has been attacked. If we turn on him now, we're telling the rest of the world that it's okay to do so. Imagine if we embraced those suffering from lycanthropy, offered them help, offered them the potion that Remus takes. They'd be safe every month and so would the rest of us. Instead, our world pretends that they're evil and then turns them into monsters like Fenrir Greyback."

The expressions of fear seemed to give way to looks of intrigue and curiosity. A Hufflepuff raised a nervous hand. Hermione lifted a brow and then cleared her throat. "Umm . . . Susan?"

The girl smiled at Hermione and then looked at Remus. "Do . . . do you really turn into a wolf? Like a real wolf?"

Remus felt some of the tension in his shoulders release, remembering when Sirius, James, and Peter began asking similar questions. "It's umm . . . it's different. I'm bigger and my . . . my snout and tail look different than a regular wolf."

"You should know that," Padma Patil said. "It was a question on last year's Defence O.W.L."

Susan winced, looking embarrassed, but then gave a smile of gratitude to Remus.

"Is it painful?" Seamus asked.

Remus slowly nodded his head. "Very. It's . . . it's excruciating," he admitted.

Dean, who sat between Ginny and Seamus looked worried for his roommate. "Doesn't the potion you take help?" he asked, brows furrowed.

Remus shook his head. "It helps me keep my mind. Before the potion, the wolf took over completely. I wouldn't even really remember the full moon. But the potion leaves me in control. The wolf instincts are there, but it's easier for me to make my own choices. And I can remember everything. Some of the symptoms are—"

"Symptoms? Like a fever?" Lavender asked.

"Kind of," he replied. "My temperature runs a bit hotter than everyone else—"

"That's not the only thing," Parvati said with a giggle and smiled at Hermione when the bushy-haired witch glared in reply at the comment, earning a wave of soft laughter from the majority of the group.

Remus himself couldn't help but chuckle, running a hand down his face at the same time in an attempt to cover the mild blush in his cheeks. "And I umm . . . my senses get overwhelmed the closer it is to the full moon. Smells and sounds and such."

"How . . . how can we help?" Hannah Abbot asked.

Remus looked shocked. "Really?"

She nodded and nervously worried her bottom lip between her teeth before speaking again. "You shouldn't have to deal with a painful illness, prejudice from the rest of the world, and problems at school. Hogwarts is supposed to be the safest place for all of us, right?" she asked, looking around the room. "If Professor Dumbledore wants you to be here, then we should trust him. Professor Lupin was the best Defence teacher any of us ever had. Even if we didn't like you, and we do, we owe it to him to help his son. It's not fair that you have to suffer." Most of the others nodded in agreement. "So how can we help?"

Remus swallowed, overwhelmed with emotions. "I umm . . . I . . ." he tried to speak but the words got stuck in his throat. He squeezed Hermione's hand, silently begging for help.

"Let everyone in your own Houses know what we talked about here," Hermione said. "Stop the spreading of rumours. We know that some people are going to be writing to their parents, we encourage you to stop that from happening."

Everyone in Ravenclaw robes turned their attention to Cho Chang, who lingered off to the side. "Why're you looking at me?" she asked.

"Because your best friend is the reason we had to have this meeting, to begin with?" Harry offered snappishly.

"Marietta?"

"She threatened Remus," Luna pointed out. "And we all heard her this morning before breakfast. She was telling everyone in the common room that she was going to write to her mother."

"She suspected Remus was a werewolf and threatened to expose him," Harry said angrily. "She spied on him last night and this morning."

Cho frowned. "She's just angry because—"

"We don't care!" Neville said, moving to actually stand in front of Remus like a shield. "We're  _all_ angry because bad things have happened to us. I'm angry that Professor Snape can't go one week without making me feel stupid," he said, frowning. "Hermione's probably angry that people call her horrible names. Harry's probably angry that the majority of the world and the school called him a liar last year when he said You-Know . . ." he paused and took a deep breath and then corrected, "when he said that V-Voldemort was back. But  _we_ don't take it out on innocent people."

Cho's gaze fell on Hermione. "Umbridge threatened her mother! She could have lost her job and Hermione jinxed her for—"

"She's not a victim, Cho," Harry said.

"Maybe if Hermione took the jinx off—"

"Hermione's not going to do a damn thing," Lavender said, pursing her lips and crossing her arms as she moved to stand in front of her roommate. Parvati quickly joined her, and suddenly all the other Gryffindors moved to stand with them, united. "Marietta got what was coming to her. And she doesn't even feel bad about it. If she  _did,_ then Hermione's jinx would disappear, right Hermione?"

Cho's mouth fell open in shock. "Really?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. I made the jinx not to punish, but to reveal. To show whether or not we had spies amongst us."

Cho looked down at the ground and sighed. "I'll . . . I'll stop her from writing to her mother," she quietly agreed and then looked up. "I'm sorry, Harry . . . I'm sorry, Hermione and . . ." her focus fell on Remus. "I'm so sorry, Remus."

* * *

**October 1st, 1996**

"Harry!"

Harry looked up from his game of Exploding Snap with Remus to see Sirius step through the portrait hole. "Sirius! I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow!" he said, jumping up to embrace his godfather with a bright grin.

Remus smiled and stood as well, watching as Lupin followed in shortly behind the Animagus. He clapped the younger werewolf on the shoulder in greeting and then nodded a hello to the other Gryffindors in the room, most who shouted a cheerful, "Hi, Professor!" at him.

"Dora was asked to arrive a day early, and since we'd already planned on travelling with her, we decided to come today as well," Lupin said, and then looked down at Remus. "How's school?"

Remus smiled. "It's good," he said. "Everyone pretty much knows but . . . people are . . . a lot more understanding. It's actually been kind of great," he admitted with a laugh.

"As long as he's housebroken, we don't care what he does during the full moon, ain't that right, Remus?" Seamus said with a laugh and then looked up at Lupin, his cheeks turning a bit red. "Er . . . no offence there, Professor."

Lupin raised a brow and then chuckled. "None taken, I suppose."

Most of the Gryffindors stood to leave the room, saying farewell to the new arrivals as they passed. Colin Creevy tapped on Lupin's shoulder. "Er . . . Professor? I'm . . . I'm sorry you have to be a werewolf. But . . . I'm not afraid," he said with a proud smile. "You were a really good teacher."

Lupin's eyes widened. "Thank you, Mister Creevey," he said and smiled when the boy turned to leave. "There are a lot more James Potters in the world than we thought," he whispered quietly.

"Oi! What the hell am I?" Sirius asked, offended.

Remus and Lupin both rolled their eyes. The older werewolf put a hand on Remus's shoulder. "If problems do occur, don't be afraid to tell anyone. Dumbledore won't let you get hurt."

"Or tossed out of Hogwarts," Sirius added.

Harry laughed. "I think Hermione would chain herself to the Quidditch stands in protest."

Remus blushed, and both Sirius and Lupin smirked at the sight. "Things are going well, I take it?" the Animagus asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"Things are fine," Remus said, not taking Sirius's bait. "Thank you, for helping with her birthday present," he added, turning to Lupin.

"I was happy to."

Sirius clapped his hands together loudly to draw attention. "Right, as interesting as Mini-Moony's boring love life is, do the pair of you want to give us a tour of the seventh floor? I still can't believe you found something in this bloody school that we never did."

They left Gryffindor Tower and made the short trip toward the seventh-floor corridor opposite the tapestry depicting the attempt of Barnabas the Barmy to teach trolls ballet. Lupin followed Harry's instructions, thinking hard and walking back and forth in front of the wall three times when, suddenly, a door appeared on the wall and opened up in front of them.

"That's brilliant," Sirius said with a bright grin.

The four made their way inside the room, which was filled with all manner of things. A collection of empty firewhisky and butterbeer bottles, old textbooks, broken brooms, and a wide variety of furniture. Harry and Remus stopped every so often to look at something—or to stop Sirius from investigating—before catching up with Lupin who appeared to know exactly where he was going.

When they finally ended up in front of a large cabinet, Harry walked around it several times. "This is the thing that Malfoy was supposed to fix up?"

"Yes," Lupin answered, opening the doors and peering inside, taking a few mental notes. "Draco sent word to his mother, hinted that he took the cabinet and hid it in here, just as we'd requested. It looks just like the one I dismantled in Borgin and Burkes last month. Albus just wanted to be thorough. Something like this could be very dangerous with a twin outside of the school," he said, removing his wand from his robes and waving it over the cabinet, casting several Detection Spells. "There's no telling whether or not it could cause harm on its own."

Remus nodded in agreement. "Better safe than sorry. I completely agree. Do you need help?"

Lupin shook his head. "I'll be fine. Keep an eye on those two, will you?" He gestured to Harry and Sirius. The latter had run off and was grinning while digging through an old pile of broken Quaffles and Bludgers.

"There's so much stuff in here!" Sirius said excitedly. "Look at all these bottles." He picked through several empty firewhisky bottles, sniffing at the top of each. "Ugh, cooking sherry," he winced when he found the empty bottle lying among the firewhisky. "My mother used to drink this stuff when we weren't looking."

Harry grimaced. "Pretty sure those belong to Professor Trelawney."

"Look at this!" Sirius said, reaching for a cage in which rested a skeleton. "What d'you suppose has five legs?" he asked with wide, curious eyes.

Remus frowned and snatched the cage from the man's hand. "Sirius, that's a skeleton of a dead creature. Don't touch it."

"Pads! Don't touch anything!" Lupin shouted, his voice echoing from inside the broken cabinet. "Remember what happened the last time you touched things!"

Sirius smirked. "Yes, we ended up with Mini-Moony, here," he said and winked at the younger werewolf who rolled his eyes at him.

"Almost done," Lupin said. "This thing really was very damaged."

"Fred and George pushed a Slytherin in it last year," Harry told him. "He went missing for a while and then ended up in the Hospital Wing."

Lupin pulled his head from the cabinet and frowned at Harry. "That was very foolish of them. It's one thing to play pranks, but an unknown magical object?" He shook his head and sighed heavily in disappointment. "They could have very seriously injured that boy."

"Wish I could throw McLaggen in it," Remus growled under his breath.

Sirius sat up from the centre of a pile of things, wearing an old Keeper's helmet, his long black hair pulled to either side of his head, looking like pigtails. "Who's McLaggen?"

Remus snarled quietly and Harry rolled his eyes. "The Keeper on my team," he told his godfather. "I wanted to give the position to Ron, but McLaggen was better and I couldn't be seen giving my friends preferential treatment."

"Good for you, Harry," Sirius said. "There's nothing more important than maintaining integrity," he said and removed the Keeper's helmet in favour of an old red wig, slipping that on his head. "Moony, look! I'd be a lovely ginger, yeah?" he asked with a happy grin. "So, why's this McLaggen bloke such a bee in our little Lupin's bonnet?"

Harry laughed. "He flirts with Hermione."

"He  _harasses_ Hermione," Remus corrected his friend. "She doesn't like it, and neither do I."

"Good on you, mate," Sirius said. "Stand up for your girl."

"Hermione's good at standing up for herself," Remus said with a proud smile. "Still . . . that tosser—"

"Just because the damsel doesn't appear to be in distress, doesn't mean that you can't be her knight in shining armour," Sirius interrupted, adding an old, worn-looking tiara to the top of his red wig. "Every witch deserves to be treated like a princess."

"Is that why half of the ones we went to school with smacked you so often?" Lupin asked, waving his wand in a large circle in front of the cabinet and watching carefully as the wood slowly began to twist and bend under the pressure of his magic. "Was that their royal way of knighting you?"

Sirius held his head high, walking around the room with the wig and tiara, exhibiting grace and poise, and bringing a loud guffaw out of Harry. "I have learned from my mistakes, Moony. I know better now."

"When was the last time you got a leg over?" Remus asked with a laugh.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Shut up. I've been busy."

The cabinet finally collapsed on on itself, wood splintering and shifting, compressing together until there was nothing more left of it save for a small block of dark wood which Lupin picked up and slipped into the pocket of his robes. The older werewolf returned his wand to its holster beneath his sleeve and then turned to see Sirius standing there, batting his eyelashes at him. "Take that thing off your head, you look ridiculous," he insisted.

Sirius scoffed. "I look fabulous, and you're just jealous because you'd look right stupid in a tiara."

Remus laughed and reached for the offending article. "Give me that," he said and snatched it off of Sirius's head, letting out a loud shout when his fingers touched the object. "Ah!"

Sirius and Lupin both spun, putting themselves between Remus and Harry and the tiara, which clanked on the floor in front of them. "What happened?" Lupin asked, grabbing Remus's hand and examining it for injuries.

Remus was pale, his eyes wide as he stared down at the tiara. "There's . . . I . . . I don't know," he said.

Sirius frowned, watching as Lupin took in a deep breath through his nose, his eyes flashing gold. "What's wrong?"

Remus shook his head. "Something's . . . wrong with that . . . that thing."

Harry looked down. "The tiara? Sirius, did you feel anything?"

"No. Moony?"

Lupin levitated the tiara, observing it carefully. "No one touch it. I smell it too," he admitted. "That's . . . that's Dark Magic. Something I've never . . ." He let out a shaky exhale and turned to look at Sirius. "We need to get Dumbledore. Now."

* * *

Lupin had sent a Patronus off to Dumbledore's office, and by the time the four reached the stone gargoyle, the headmaster was there, smiling at them. Sirius and Harry were welcomed up into the old wizard's office, though he insisted that Remus and Lupin remain behind, suggesting that perhaps they were sensitive to the tiara and it might be safer if they did not interact with it much.

Lupin had frowned but nodded his head in acceptance, while Remus bristled and said nothing until their friends disappeared with Dumbledore, and the gargoyle became still once again.

"I think Dumbledore's been cursed."

Lupin turned and looked at the younger wolf. "Why would you say that?" he asked suspiciously.

Remus lifted his hand, running his fingers over the side and wrist. "His hand," he said, gesturing. "It's black. And . . . and I think he knows that you and I can sense certain things. He doesn't want people to know how bad it is. I think he might be really sick," he said with a heavy frown. "That's why only Harry and Sirius were asked to come up to his office. Why  _we're_ waiting out here."

Lupin looked pensive for a long moment and didn't reply at first, leaning forward where he sat, elbows leaning on his knees and his chin resting on the tips of his knuckles, fingers laced together while he contemplated. "Why would Dumbledore keep information like that to himself?"

Remus shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he's embarrassed or . . . or afraid to talk about it? Maybe he's hiding something, who knows?"

"Who knows, indeed," Lupin agreed, looking over at the boy curiously and noting the way that they sat was very similar. He couldn't help but grin at the sight. "Poppy would have information," he said a moment later, drawing Remus out of his quiet anxiety. "If students are able to see his hand, that means that he's not completely hiding it. She wouldn't ignore something like that. She'll have wanted to treat it herself." A frown overtook his expression. "Unless . . ."

Remus's eyes widened. "Unless it's a really Dark Curse like I suspect and it's beyond her abilities."

"He couldn't go to St Mungo's. They're just as likely to be infiltrated as the Ministry these days."

"That leaves a Dark Magic expert. And if he's not talking to  _you_. . ."

Lupin sighed and ran a hand through his greying hair. "Snape," he said in understanding. " _I'll_  talk to Severus when I pick up my Wolfsbane later this month. Don't say anything to him yourself."

Remus nodded. "I keep my mouth shut in front of Professor  _Snivellus_ ," he said in a petulant tone.

Lupin narrowed his eyes in disappointment, and Remus was shocked to find that he visibly reacted to the gesture from his older self. The younger sighed and looked down and the older pursed his lips. "Don't call him that."

"Did you know he tried to poison Neville's toad" Remus quietly asked. "And he's horrible to anyone who's not a Slytherin. I know he has to keep the image up of being a bastard, but he's bloody well perfected it over the years."

"How're classes?" Lupin asked, trying to derail the angry rambling, knowing that close to the full moon or not, once he was enraged enough about any one thing in particular, it would be hard to calm down once he got going.

Remus took a breath and slowly let it out. "Fine. After the first day, he mostly just ignores me."

"That's probably for the best."

"The other classes are good," Remus said, changing the subject, knowing that if he didn't, it was likely Lupin would. A part of him wanted to keep being angry, hoping to get something changed even if that was only his mood, but he figured that he needed to trust the older werewolf when the chance came around; he had actually lived through the last twenty years, after all. "Charms and Runes are easier than I thought they'd be at a N.E.W.T. level. Transfiguration is a bit rough some days, but I think that's because Professor McGonagall is trying to make it harder for those of us who are further along than others."

"And Potions?"

Remus snorted. "What do  _you_ think?"

Lupin smirked at him. "Melted any cauldrons yet?"

"Not yet. The last week leading up to the full moon was easier because we were mostly just doing theory."

"Ah," Lupin said with a chuckle, "so no . . . tantrums yet?"

"I do  _not_ throw tantrums," Remus said, narrowing his eyes.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Lupin laughed loudly, drawing the attention of a few passing Ravenclaws. "We  _absolutely_ throw tantrums."

"Professor Lupin!" Hermione called when she came around the corner with Ron and Lavender, practically skipping to Remus's side, lacing her fingers through his. "I thought you weren't coming to visit until tomorrow?" she said, smiling up at her former professor and ignoring the way that Remus possessively pushed his nose into her hair, a habit he'd developed that she had done nothing to curtail.

Lupin cordially nodded his head in greeting first to Hermione, and then to Ron and Lavender, slipping his hands into the pockets of his robes and looking like the relaxed authority figure he was when he was employed at Hogwarts. "Change of plans. How are you, Hermione?"

She smiled brightly. "I'm very well, thank you."

"Ronald, how are you?" Lupin said, turning his attention to the other pair. "And Miss Brown, very good to see you."

Lavender beamed at him. "Hello, Professor. Are you here visiting Remus?"

"Yes. Sirius and I had a meeting with Dumbledore and we thought we'd take some time to catch up with our boys."

"Oh my gods!" Lavender squealed loudly and actually stepped forward, snatching Lupin's hand and bringing it close to her face. "Did you get married?!"

Remus blanched at the thought and almost laughed at the absurdity. "What? Don't be . . ." He looked at Lupin's hand in Lavender's clutches where she was admiring a small gold band wrapped around his ring finger. "What's that?" he asked in a low, shaky tone.

Lupin swallowed nervously, his cheeks pink from the attention that his former student had drawn. He pulled his hand away from the girl and gave her an apologetic look when she suddenly appeared to realise the personal bubble she'd broken by touching him. "Oh umm . . . that is my umm . . ."

"You got married?" Ron asked with a crooked grin. "Congratulations!"

Hermione smiled sweetly. "Oh wow! How wonderful! Do you and Tonks plan on having a celebration when—"

"You got married?!" Remus snapped, letting go of Hermione's hand and taking a step toward the older werewolf, his brows furrowed in shocked anger. "How!? Why!?"

"Why?" Hermione repeated the word in confusion.

Lupin frowned. "Remus—"

"No! How could you . . . Why would you get married?!" Remus yelled.

Ron tried to break the tension by chuckling awkwardly. "Well, normally when two people fall in love—"

Remus growled. "No! If he  _actually_ loved her, he wouldn't have ruined her life!"

"Remus!" Hermione snapped and reached out, tugging on his arm. "Professor Lupin and Tonks clearly love each other very much. Getting married won't ruin her—"

He ignored her and kept his gaze on Lupin, his face pale and looking sick to his stomach with worry and guilt and a number of other emotions he hadn't quite named yet. "She'll be a pariah. People will hate her and think . . . I didn't even know it was legal for werewolves to get married!"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

Ron bit his lip and took a step back. "Uh oh."

Lupin put a hand on Remus's shoulder to steady him. "Remus, you need to calm down," he ordered. "Hermione, he's upset and rightfully so. I should have sent word ahead and—"

But she wasn't listening to him. "If Tonks is a pariah, what the hell does that make me?" she asked, hands on her hips as she glared at him.

Remus spun around to face her. "What?" he asked in genuine confusion.

"Don't answer that, mate," Ron said under his breath.

"Shut up, Ronald," Hermione hissed. "So it's fine for a werewolf to  _date_ a witch, so long as the public doesn't know about it? So long as there's no potential  _real_ future involved? How long did you plan on being with me?"

Remus blinked rapidly. "Hermione . . . this is . . . I didn't . . . you're different."

"How? Tonks knows about his lycanthropy and loves him regardless," she said firmly. "She's a fully trained Auror, capable of dealing with any amount of scrutiny. She  _wanted_ him! She  _chose_ him! She  _loves_ him!" she yelled, tears coming to her eyes.

Remus swallowed nervously as he stared at her. He was often just as reckless as Sirius, a bit of a dolt when he let his emotions get away from him, but he was never stupid. He could very clearly read between the lines and the implication was . . . overwhelming and unexpected. "Does she?" he whispered.

Hermione glared at him. "You're impossible!" she said before storming away, shoulder checking him when he refused to move from her path.

"Hermione!" he called after her.

"I'm not speaking to you, Remus Lupin!" she called back over her shoulder. "I'm a pariah as far as you're concerned!"

He hesitated in going after her, especially when Lavender and Ron both shook their heads when he took a step forward. "I didn't . . . fuck," he said. "Is it really legal for werewolves to get married?"

Lupin sighed. "It is  _now_."

"Shit!"

"Woah . . . what's the drama?" Sirius asked when the gargoyle moved aside, allowing him and Harry to exit, both looking shocked at the scene in front of them, and the specific colour of grey on Remus's face.

Lavender's eyes widened. "Oh my goodness, I saw that Professor Lupin was wearing a wedding ring and—"

"You got married?!" Harry shouted, turning to look at Lupin.

Lavender huffed at being interrupted. "Quiet Harry, I'm telling the story. Anyways, I was so excited because weddings are so very wonderful, but Remus isn't happy about his father getting married and I thought it might be because he thought that the Professor's new wife was replacing his mother, because if my parents weren't together and my father got remarried that's what I would have thought, but I guess Remus wasn't aware that werewolves could even get married, and so he said some awful things and Hermione took it personally because—"

"Oh, Mini-Moony . . . you poor bastard," Sirius said with a pitying laugh, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder in commiseration. "How angry is she?" he asked Ron.

"On a Hermione scale?" Ron said with a smirk. "I'd say it's close to a seven?" he answered and Harry paled a bit, turning to offer Remus a look of great condolence.

"How bad is that?" Sirius asked, looking up at Lupin.

The older werewolf smiled sadly. "I'd call it a Lily six point five."

Remus paled in horror.

Sirius grimaced. "Ouch."


	25. Chapter 25

**October 1st, 1996**

Angry and guilty at the same time, Hermione returned to Gryffindor Tower and paced in the common room for forty minutes or so, half expecting Remus to come chasing after her. When he didn't, she began to realise the severity of his self-worth issues, something that only bothered her more. She'd practically given a confession of love to the boy, and he was distracted by the fact that outside of Hogwarts, a potential relationship with him would be scorn for her. As though she wasn't used to scorn! As if he wasn't worth it.

And he was.

"So this is Gryffindor Tower."

Hermione spun at the familiar voice in an unfamiliar place. Her eyes widened at the sight of Tonks crawling through the portrait hole sporting her blue Auror robes and matching hair.

"Nice. Comfy," Tonks said as she collapsed into a large red armchair. "Not as awesome as the Hufflepuff common room, being kitchen adjacent and all, but still. It's welcoming."

"Tonks, what are you doing here?"

She shrugged. "I started work down in Hogsmeade. Was in the middle of getting a good lay of the land when a little birdie in the shape of a strangely erotic wolf Patronus," she said with a large smirk, "told me that my  _specific_ brand of expertise would be useful here at Hogwarts."

Hermione looked down at Tonk's left hand and spotted the small diamond ring. "Congratulations on your wedding."

Tonks grinned brightly, eyes sparkling with joy. "Thanks. Wish you lot could have been there, but you should have seen the trouble Sirius and I had to even get Remus to agree to it. He's too noble, our handsome wolf."

Hermione sighed, ignoring Tonks's use of the plural possessive. "Noble? He's afraid."

"Sure is," Tonks agreed. "But not for himself. He . . .  _they_. . . they're afraid for us. Do you know what happened to his family when he was infected?" she asked and Hermione shook her head, taking a seat on a nearby sofa, lifting a large orange pillow from the seat beside her and hugging it to her chest. "His dad lost his job, his mum was sick with stress. Even without being a mum myself I can't imagine looking at my own child, only four-years-old, and knowing what he'd have to go through. Not just every month, but the rest of his life. You see how people treat him,  _them_. They're outcasts, and so are we because we love them."

Hermione ignored the obvious prompt. "I'm already an outcast."

Tonks smiled sadly. "True. I don't know what it's like for you personally, but my dad's a Muggle-born. I've heard stories about what life was like for him at Hogwarts. Hopefully, it won't last for too much longer. This war will end and you'll graduate Hogwarts and start making your way in the world. You'll change it for  _all_ Muggle-borns."

Hermione frowned and began nervously picking at her fingernails. "I want to change it for more than just Muggle-borns."

"You know something about Remus?" Tonks said with a smile. "He's everything you  _need_ him to be. He learned early on how to take care of people. He was the quiet son who didn't talk about his condition to his parents, who didn't want to be reminded that they'd failed to protect him. He was a brilliant student, a prefect, all in an attempt to prove to the rest of the Wizarding world that just because he was a werewolf didn't make him any less skilled as a wizard. He was a troublemaker because it bonded him with his friends, and he was even a bully sometimes, because it made him fit in with the crowd."

Hermione sighed irritably. "Now he's a martyr."

Tonks chuckled. "Oh sweetie, he's  _always_ been one of those. But being friends with Harry Potter, I thought you'd be used to that."

Hermione smiled awkwardly and looked up at Tonks who had her fingers laced together, leaning forward and resting them on her knees. The light caught her ring again and Hermione sighed. "Did he think that we'd not last? That I'd . . . just toss him aside or something?"

"I suspect he didn't think much," Tonks replied. "The first time my dear,  _sweet_ husband and I got together, he was pissed out of his mind," she said with a full-bellied laugh. "I flirted constantly when we'd get paired together on missions, and any chance I could get, I'd take advantage. When I finally got him to kiss me . . . he apologised for a good hour and I had to actually crawl into his lap to shut him up."

A blush crept up Hermione's cheeks, and she laughed awkwardly. "I'm not sure if I should be hearing this. The man you're talking about is my former professor."

"And technically your future-past boyfriend."

Hermione laughed loudly when Tonks waggled her eyebrows, and then her eyes widened in realisation. "Oh my gods . . . I . . . I know the truth but I still look at him as Remus's father. That means . . . Oh my gods!" she exclaimed and then covered her embarrassed face with her hands.

Tonks giggled. "He's quite fit, innit he?"

Hermione mumbled through her fingers. "This is . . . this is so awkward."

"What? That you've technically seen your professor starkers?"

"What?!" Hermione threw her hands down and stared at the Auror with wide, horrified eyes, unable to stop herself from thinking of Remus—her Remus—not only naked but . . . older and naked. She couldn't help but think he would age well, especially since he'd have the Wolfsbane Potion years ahead of schedule. "I . . . I haven't . . . I mean, we haven't . . . not . . ."

Tonks looked surprised. "Not yet?" she asked. "Huh. You've more self-control than I did, that's for sure. Calm down, Hermione. You'll hurt yourself."

Hermione took several deep breaths and tried to fan away the heat in her cheeks. "I'm never going to be able to look Professor Lupin in the face again."

"How about younger Remus?" Tonks asked, hoping to throw the girl a bone and change the subject a touch.

Hermione sighed. "I understand where he's coming from . . . to a point. It just . . . it hurt to see him panic like that when he found out that you and Professor Lupin got married."

"He'll get over it. You're good for him, Hermione. Don't let him go just because he's afraid of the problems that come with a future with him."

She took notice of the way Tonks's smile briefly faltered. "Is it very bad?"

Hair turning a darker shade of blue and then ultimately shifting to black, Tonks sighed. "There've been quite a few comments about whether or not I've had my rabies shot," she said in a bitter tone. "And if our wedding rings were matching flea collars. Honestly, a lot of the rude comments are really not that creative. Sirius does better on a daily basis. It's mostly odd glances and dirty looks but you know what? I could give a shit how the rest of the world looks at me because the way  _he_ looks at me makes it all worthwhile."

Hermione smiled at Tonks's unwavering love and devotion in the face of ugly prejudice. "He does have very beautiful eyes," she said quietly, thinking of the way Remus stared at her in class, smiling when he thought she wasn't looking. "Softest green . . ."

"The gold ain't bad either," Tonks said, winking, and the two witches shared a laugh.

Eventually, Hermione groaned and fell back on the sofa. "What should I do?"

"Make him wait a few days at least," Tonks suggested. "Make him know what it's like to miss you a little. It makes it easier for him to remember the next time he has one of these little panic attacks. And it'll happen again," she assured her. "But . . . remember that this isn't easy for him either. He's used to only having his friends to support him, he's used to betrayal and pain, he's used to loneliness.  _Your_ Remus is more sensitive to it because it's so fresh for him. Keep that in mind. It's okay to be mad at him but don't—"

"I'd  _never_ abandon him," Hermione said resolutely. "He's . . . he's  _mine_."

Tonks grinned, hair turning bright pink with joy. "Mine, too. Wanna fight?"

Hermione chuckled awkwardly. "This really is very strange, you know."

"Says the girl who didn't know about magic until she was eleven."

* * *

**October 2nd, 1996**

Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table with Harry and Ron, all earlier than usual, mouths closed and in motion as they toyed with their breakfast, staring down at the plates as Remus approached and sat down beside Hermione. "Morning," he said, an apologetic look in his eyes. "You're still mad?" When she didn't reply, he sighed heavily. "I don't know how else to say I'm sorry, Hermione. Please talk to me," he begged, reaching over and taking her hand.

She turned, looked at him, and sighed, squeezing his hand but saying nothing.

Remus looked down and let her go. "All right. I . . . I understand," he said and then hesitated before leaning forward and kissing her cheek softly. He paused and instinctively sniffed at her hair. "That's . . . that's an interesting perfume you're wearing, by the way. Is it new?" he asked and Hermione's eyes widened as she turned back to her plate, focusing on smashing her eggs into small bits.

Confused, Remus looked across the table at Ron and Harry who were also silent and not looking at him. "All right, Ron? Harry? You two aren't speaking to me, either?" Remus sighed and stood up. "Okay . . . I get it. I'll see you in class," he said before leaving the Great Hall.

Ron waited for Remus to disappear from sight before letting out a heavy exhale as though he'd been holding his breath the entire time. "Bloody hell, Hermione. Give the poor bloke a break."

Harry made a gagging motion, his face turning slightly green as he moved something in his mouth from one side to the other with his tongue. "Ugh . . . these are awful. Do we really have to go a whole two weeks with these things in our mouths?" When she didn't respond he rolled his eyes. "Hermione, I know you can speak."

She pursed her lips. "Well, I couldn't while Remus was here. It's one thing to douse myself in a perfume he doesn't like to disguise the smell of Mandrake leaves, but if I'd opened my mouth he'd figured it out immediately."

Ron coughed loudly and reached into his mouth, adjusting the leaf. "I need you to do that Sticking Charm again to the roof of my mouth. I'm not sure if I can keep this up a whole two weeks."

Hermione slapped his hand away from his mouth and flicked her wand at him. "You're lucky I asked Neville for the leaves instead of taking them from Professor Slughorn, or worse, Professor Snape. It was  _Neville's_ idea to soak them in a Strengthening Solution to cut down on the time needed. Usual Animagi training makes you keep them in your mouth for an entire month."

"And we're sure it'll work?"

She nodded. "Yes. I ran the idea by Sirius before he and Professor Lupin left yesterday."

Harry sighed. "Are you really not going to speak to Remus for the next two weeks?"

She frowned and looked back down at her plate, moving her eggs from one side to the other and then back again. "I don't want to not talk to him, it's just . . . how would the pair of you feel if a girl you'd been dating basically panicked at the idea of ever having a long term relationship with you?"

"Thrilled," Ron said. "'Course, I'd have to get a witch first."

Harry distracted Hermione, who looked ready to hex Ron. "I get it, Hermione. It's just . . . he's miserable."

"I know," she said, sniffing. "I don't like it either."

"And we can't tell him that we're learning to become Animagi?"

She shrugged once but then shook her head. "Sirius said he'd freak out and beg us not to. Frankly . . . I don't want to fight with him."

"Then we need to think up something else to cover the smell of Mandrake . . ." Ron began but then gulped and looked up, eyes wide and panicked as his face lost all colour. "Umm . . . Hermione?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Did you swallow  _another_ one?! Ronald! You're going to make yourself sick!"

* * *

"Potter! Weasley!" Professor McGonagall snapped as the boys rushed down the corridor, nearly colliding with the older witch as they spun around a corner. "Are we in a foot race?"

"No, Professor," Harry said, looking down.

"Sorry, Professor," Ron mumbled.

"As you were then," she said and waved them off just as Hermione rounded the corner and smiled before proceeding to follow her friends. "Miss Granger? That is an interesting perfume you're wearing. Might I ask where you procured it?"

Hermione paled. "Umm . . . from my roommates, ma'am."

The elder witch raised an incredulous brow. "I see. Looking for something particularly pungent?" she asked and almost smirked when Hermione began fidgeting with her hands. "You are aware, Miss Granger, that Animagi training is not only highly dangerous without proper guidance, but that becoming an unregistered Animagus is illegal?"

Suddenly, Hermione abandoned her nerves and looked up, clearly replying, " _Training_  isn't illegal though, ma'am."

McGonagall held back a grin. "No, it is not."

"And I would ask what your definition is of 'proper' guidance?" Hermione questioned.

McGonagall rolled her eyes and sighed in irritation. "Mister Black visited the school yesterday, did he not?"

"He did."

She shook her head. "He was a foolish boy who could have very well gotten his friends injured or killed in the process of becoming Animagi."

"Yes, ma'am."

"His heart, however, was in the right place," the older witch quietly pointed out, earning a bright smile from the younger. " _He_  was lucky.  _You_ , however, are much more advanced than a second year boy with an inflated ego. If you come upon any problems, do not hesitate to come to me. Now, as for the smell, a Sensory Alteration Charm should do the trick if you're wanting to keep young Mister Lupin from discovering your little plan whilst saving the rest of us the trouble of having to smell that horrid perfume." And then she flicked her wand, slowly so that Hermione could memorise the movement. " _Mutacio Odoratus._ "

Hermione beamed. "Thank you, Professor."

"Miss Granger?" McGonagall called as Hermione turned to leave, stopping the young witch in her tracks. "Do try to keep Misters Potter and Weasley from ending up in some Transfiguration blunder. It would be terribly embarrassing to have the Chosen One stuck as half of a goat."

* * *

**October 3rd, 1996**

Replicating the Sensory Alteration Charm had been harder than she'd anticipated, especially since Ron wouldn't stop moving so that she could cast it. By the time the Mandrake leaves were firmly stuck to the roofs of their mouths and the smell was vanished, they were late for breakfast. Harry and Ron rushed out of the tower and headed straight for the Quidditch pitch, and Hermione made her way to the Great Hall.

She paused, a bit shocked to see Luna sitting with Remus and Neville at the end of the table. She swallowed hard and nervously thought about where to sit. There were only a few seconds of silent contemplation before Remus moved his bag off of the bench.

She smiled down at him, guilt in her gaze as she sat down.

"Good morning, Hermione," Luna said, looking up with a bright smile. "Are you still not speaking to Remus?"

Hermione frowned and opened her mouth. "I'm . . ."

"I made something," Remus said, interrupting her and pulling her attention away from the Ravenclaw. "I wanted you to give it a look over before I finished it, that is, unless you've not forgiven me." His tone sounded almost teasing, but his eyes were heavy with anticipation. He placed a folded piece of parchment in front of her. The outside was a moon, covered with a large paw print and Hermione recognised the art as Luna's.

"What is it?" she asked, opening it up.

He cleared his throat. "A umm . . . a card. For Tonks."

_Dear Tonks,_

_Congratulations. Welcome to the family._

_Remus_

Hermione read the words, unable to speak. She realised what he was doing. Showing her that it didn't bother him. That he'd overreacted. She couldn't seem to find the words to express her feelings, so her mouth just hung open, eyes focused on the card.

"No?" he asked, frowning and looking back down at his words. "You're right. Still sounds off." And he took the card back, scribbled out a few words and replaced them with others.

_Dear Tonks,_

_Congratulations. Welcome to the pack._

_Remus._

Hermione smirked at the word "pack" and turned her head to look at Remus, reaching up to touch his face, letting her thumb rub over the thick scar peeking out of his collar on his neck.

"If I still sound ashamed, I could address it to Mrs Wolfy MacWolferson?" he offered, and Hermione burst into laughter. Clearly relieved, Remus took a bold chance and wrapped his arms around her, letting out a sigh of relief when she held onto him tightly.

"I didn't know you were Irish, Remus," Luna said.

Raising a confused brow, Remus turned to look at the blond witch. "I'm . . . what?" he asked and glanced at Neville who was stifling his own laughter, shaking his head, silently telling Remus it wasn't worth it to ask. Instead, he turned back to her. "Hermione, please forgive me. I want to be with you. I don't know what the future has in store, but I know I want you to be a part of mine."

Hermione frowned and kissed his cheek. "Please stop hating yourself."

He sighed. "I'll . . . I'll put my faith in your judgement."

She nodded. "I can accept that."

He smiled and kissed her softly, sweetly, and pulled away, licking at his lips curiously. "Mmm . . . you . . . you taste different."

Hermione swallowed hard and her eyes widened just slightly. "Something new," she said. "You don't like it?"

He thought about it for a minute, trying to place the flavour but it was just out of reach. "It's just . . . different . . . but . . . never mind," he said and reached for his bag. "I'll see you in Arithmancy?"

Hermione smiled and nodded, kissing his cheek once more and watching as Remus and Neville left together for the library. She let out an exhale of relief and reached for the potatoes, serving up a spoonful on her plate.

"You probably taste different because of the Mandrake leaves," Luna said, and Hermione looked up, eyes wide. "Are you eating them to keep away vampires? I don't think that works as well as people might lead you to believe. You should probably just use them for things like potion making and Animagus training."

"What? How . . . Luna . . . what do you know about training to become an Animagus?"

"I think it's nice," Luna said with a sweet smile, radish earrings dangling from her lobes. "Remus needs another wolf in his pack, don't you think?"

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Luna, my . . . my Animagus form is an otter, like my Patronus."

"Is it?" The blonde tilted her head to the side in amused wonder. "How lovely. I've always liked your Patronus. Still, it'll be spring soon."


	26. Chapter 26

**October 12th, 1996**

"Aaaaaaaargh!"

Remus shot bolt upright in bed at the sound of screaming, flinging open the curtain of his four poster, wand gripped tight in hand and aimed in the dark. There was a lot of rustling as his roommates did the same and he, along with Neville, lit a bright  _Lumos_. The light revealed the origin of the screaming: Ron hanging upside-down by his ankle, hovering over his bed.

"Sorry!" Harry yelled while Seamus and Dean burst into laughter. "Hang on, I'll let you down!"

Remus, recognising the jinx, narrowed his gaze at Harry. " _You_  did that?"

Harry stopped, green eyes widening. "Er . . . yeah, I umm . . . I didn't mean to. I was thinking about that spell you used on Snape and well . . .  _that_ happened," he said, gesturing to Ron.

"Storytime is over, mate! Let me down!"

Suspicious, Remus folded his arms. "What's the counterspell?" Blanking, Harry's eyes drifted to the corner of his bed where his blankets had been tossed in a pile. He shrugged innocently and Remus shook his head. "Then how, exactly, did you plan on getting him down?"

"Can we discuss this later?" Ron pleaded. "I'm . . . guys, I'm getting . . . getting a little dizzy over here . . . and . . . if I vomit . . ."

" _Liberacorpus_ ," Remus said, and with a flick of his wand and a flash of light, he lowered his friend as gently as he could.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, while Dean and Seamus continued to roar with laughter.

"Tomorrow," Ron said in a muffled voice, as he threw a pillow over his head, "I'd really rather you set the alarm clock."

By the time they were almost done with breakfast, Hermione had been told the tale of Ron's unfortunate awakening and she had turned her questioning look on Remus. "Was that the same spell you used on Professor Snape?"

"I did  _not_ teach it to anyone," he insisted as he picked at the plate of sausages in front of him. "Harry apparently  _remembered_ it," he said suspiciously, looking across the table at his black-haired friend who had a guilty expression on his face.

"How'd you even hear the incantation, Harry? You weren't close enough," Hermione said, turning her ire on her best friend. "Harry Potter! Did you copy down some of the spells in that book?"

Harry glanced away, mumbling, "Might've," under his breath.

She sucked in a breath, appearing ready to let Harry have the lecture of a lifetime, when a distraction arrived in the shape of Ginny. "Hey, Harry, I'm supposed to give you this," she said and held out a small scroll of parchment with Harry's name written upon it in familiar thin, slanting writing.

"Thanks, Ginny . . . It's Dumbledore's next lesson!" Harry told them, pulling open the parchment and quickly reading its contents. "Monday evening! Want to join us in Hogsmeade, Ginny?" he asked, turning to smile up at her as she hovered over his shoulder, looking like she was reading the small scroll she'd been sent to deliver.

"I'm going with Dean. I might see you there, though," she replied, waving at them as she left.

* * *

Ron returned to Gryffindor Tower to fetch his permission slip, and Hermione joined him to grab some extra money for Hogsmeade. Remus waited with Harry for them at the bottom of the stairs, and he couldn't help but notice when Harry's gaze followed after Ginny and Dean when they walked past them, hand in hand.

"You need to be more subtle, mate."

Harry blinked and looked up at his friend. "What?"

"Ginny. I mean . . . I don't think  _Ron's_ figured it out, but you're not exactly trying to hide it now, are you?"

"I . . . I don't know what . . ." Harry tried to say but then sighed defeatedly. "Is it that obvious? I don't mean to. I mean . . . I smelled her in the Amortentia," he whispered. "I didn't know it was her at first, but then she came by the table and leant over me. Her hair was just . . . I'm properly fucked, aren't I?"

Remus laughed. "If Ron finds out you're thinking about his sister? Maybe. Depends on if he's in a good mood when he figures it out. I'd be more worried about Dean. You know, her boyfriend?"

Harry scoffed. "They've not even been together that long. And she dated Michael Corner last year. Dean's not . . . I mean, he won't last. They'll split eventually."

Raising a brow, Remus sighed. "Harry, is Dean your friend? I mean, up until you started fancying his witch, was he your friend?"

"What?" Harry asked, surprised by the question. "Er . . . yeah, I s'pose."

"And is Ginny your friend?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Then why are you hoping that they break up?" he asked, immediately thinking of how he'd initially felt about Lily. The first girl who'd ever been his friend. She'd lit something up inside of his chest and made him smile. But James, from an early age, had loved her. Actually  _loved_ her. And Remus was grateful when his adoration of Lily turned from infatuation to familial. Friends didn't go after the witches their friends loved. It was why he was so adamant in talking to both Ron and Harry about Hermione before he even thought about making a move. "From what Hermione's told me, Ginny was more than obvious about how she felt about you and you—"

"I was a prat, yeah, I know," Harry said bitterly. "She treated me like everyone else did. A bloody celebrity, and she was my mate's little sister but . . . but then she started treating me normal and now—"

"Now that you finally fancy her back, you expect her to split with Dean, someone who's been good to her? Who's put up with Ron's attitude and has smacked Seamus anytime he's said anything derogatory about her?"

Harry sighed and lightly kicked his foot against the nearby wall in frustration. "I get it," he mumbled. "Just . . . I dunno. You and Hermione make it look so easy, you know? I dated . . . sort of . . . this girl last year. Cho. She . . . it was awful and embarrassing. I didn't know what I was doing and she wasn't ready and . . . I feel like I've lost my chance."

Remus laughed. "Harry, I watched your dad try to pull Lily for years and fail in ways that you've never even thought of. You've not lost your chance at anything. If Ginny and Dean aren't meant for forever, then that'll be the time for you to think about that. And maybe it would be different if you didn't know or like the bloke, but you do, and he's our roommate and friend. So instead of pining after the girl that you maybe only want now because you can't have her," he said and then held up a hand when Harry looked like he wanted to argue with Remus's theory, "find yourself a girl who likes you for you, and  _isn't_ already attached to someone else."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Likes me for me," he said and then scoffed. "Right. You almost had a decent speech there, mate. Just short of perfect."

Remus laughed and patted his friend on the back just as Ron and Hermione descended the stairs.

"What's so funny?" Ron asked.

"Harry doesn't think you're a very good date," Remus teasingly quipped. "Think he'd much prefer a pretty witch. Unfortunately for the both of you, I've got the only one," he said and put his arm around Hermione, who rolled her eyes.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mister Lupin."

"How about a trip to the bookshop?" he asked.

"Mmm . . ." She smirked up at him. "Am I so easy to read?"

Ron jokingly grimaced. "Oi, take your weird swotty flirtations elsewhere, yeah? I still plan on eating today."

* * *

When they finally reached Hogsmeade, Hermione and Remus separated from their friends to head into the bookshop and look for a few things to assist with upcoming exams. Harry and Ron teased them good-naturedly before departing for the Three Broomsticks, Harry talking about the need for a good butterbeer, and Ron mumbling awkwardly about Madam Rosmerta.

"I need your help finding a book," Hermione whispered to Remus when they walked through the door of Tomes and Scrolls. "Anything on cursed objects."

He blinked at her tone and turned to look over his shoulder at the shop owner, who was busy speaking with another student about their upcoming N.E.W.T.s. Glancing back to Hermione, he caught the very subtle shake of her head. "Is this about . . . about that thing we found in the Room of Requirement?" he asked. "Did Harry tell you what it was?"

She swallowed hard and bit the corner of her bottom lip, but then nodded. "Sort of. It's . . . complicated. I've never heard of anything like this before, and it's not something I feel comfortable talking about in the open, but I've got to try and research it . . . I feel helpless if I'm not doing everything I can to—"

"Everything you can to what?" Hermione shrieked at the voice spoken over her shoulder, jumping forward into Remus's arms. Glancing back, Tonks stood there with a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. "Sorry there, 'Mione," she said. "I didn't mean to startle you like that."

Hermione caught her breath and offered Tonks a forgiving smile. "Sorry, I'm just . . . a bit jumpy is all."

The Auror nodded and then grinned. "I see the two of you made up. Good, Remus and Sirius will be happy to hear that all is well. Where're the others?"

Remus smirked. "You thought they'd be at a bookshop on Hogsmeade Weekend?"

Tonks laughed. "Three Broomsticks then? Or have they been dragged by some girls to Madam Puddifoot's, poor little things?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione chuckled. "Ron's practically oblivious to girls right now. At least the ones who pay him any attention. If he doesn't acknowledge poor Lavender soon, I'll not get any sleep because she'll keep me awake all night with her weeping."

"I remember those years," Tonks said thoughtfully. "Bloody miserable. Luckily, I don't have to worry about things like that anymore."

"How's married life?" Hermione asked with a smile, threading her fingers through Remus's.

Tonks shrugged. "Good as can be. War going on, I hardly see him as it is. I'm either stuck here or he's on mission and—"

"He's going on missions?" Remus asked, brows furrowed. "Is he meeting with other . . . other werewolves and—"

The Auror stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. "He's safe. I promise you."

He frowned. "How can you know that for sure?"

Sighing, Tonks pulled out her wand and flicked it, summoning her Patronus. A silvery spectral wolf emerged from the end and shook out its fur before stretching its long legs and then yawning. "Checking in," Tonks said and then nodded to the wolf, who dashed out the window. "Shouldn't be too long now."

Remus stared at the creature before it vanished. "That looked just like—"

"Wasn't your Patronus a rabbit?" Hermione asked, interrupting him.

Tonks smiled. "Changed a bit back," she said. "Apparently, that happens when . . . how did he put it . . . great emotional upheaval or some such."

The little witch smiled brightly. "When you fell in love with Professor Lupin," she said, and Tonks nodded her head, touching the tip of her index finger to her nose.

Remus cleared his throat. "What's umm . . . what's yours?" he asked Hermione.

Tonks laughed. "Subtle," she said and her grin widened when Remus briefly glared at her.

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes but indulged him, taking out her wand and flicking it forward. " _Expecto Patronum_ ," she said and smiled when the little silver otter emerged, swimming along in midair on its back, pausing to circle Remus once before vanishing. Hermione looked up to see Remus staring at the place where the otter had vanished, a torn look on his face, something between disappointment and fascination.

"I don't know how to cast that," he said in mild frustration, jumping as a much larger wolf Patronus appeared beside Tonks.

Its mouth opened and the voice of Lupin came out, "Just fine, love," it said in a sweet and calm tone.

Tonks turned and smiled at Remus. "See? All's well."

He nodded gratefully to her. "We should umm . . ."

"Oh, don't let me bother you," the Auror replied, reaching out and hugging them both quickly. "I've got work to deal with anyway. Have a good date and I'll see you soon, yeah? Christmas in just a few months!" she said excitedly.

* * *

After buying a few books on curses, Remus and Hermione stopped by Honeydukes for some sweets before making their way back up the path to Hogwarts. They passed by several other students, including one of Harry's Quidditch teammates, Katie Bell, who stopped to ask Hermione if Harry was still down in the village.

"I think so," she replied. "Is anything wrong?"

Katie scoffed. "Other than McLaggen ruining the team? No. Sodding prick tried to grab my arse after practice yesterday and I almost broke his hand. If he keeps this up, we're not going to have a bloody Keeper come game time."

Remus growled and Hermione squeezed his hand, offering Katie a sympathetic smile. "If it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one that he's a creep to. Something really should be done," she said and when Remus growled louder, Hermione spoke over him. "Something  _legal_ that wouldn't get anyone expelled."

Katie smirked at the pair and then caught up with her friend Leanne before heading into the castle.

Suddenly in a bad mood, Remus shoved his hands in his pockets and followed his witch inside. After several minutes of silence, Hermione turned and smiled at him. "We still have a few hours until everyone comes back from Hogsmeade. Harry and Ron usually linger as long as they can. We could . . ." she began, but then looked down at her shoes as she toed the ground shyly.

Noting her tone, Remus's chest rumbled in pleasure and he leant forward, appearing to chastely kiss her cheek, but going further, brushing his lips against her ear instead. "Prefect's bathroom?" he whispered.

"No, the seventh year prefects stay behind during Hogsmeade weekend to study, and there's a chance someone could walk in. What about . . . the tunnel that leads to Honeydukes?" she quietly suggested. "Harry and Ron are already in Hogsmeade, so they have no reason to use it, and no one else knows it exists."

He grinned and nodded, taking her hand and rushing up the stairs to drop off their purchases, before making their way to the statue of the one-eyed witch.

Once beneath the statue and in the darkness of the tunnel below, Remus wasted little time before pulling Hermione into his arms and kissing her soundlessly. She made delicious little noises that he greedily swallowed, letting his hands roam up and down her sides. The full moon was another two weeks out, so the desire that flooded his veins and filled his mind was all him, the wolf resting comfortably in the back of his consciousness.

"Stop for a bit," Hermione whispered and smiled when he let go of her immediately, kissing the top of her head as he fought to catch his breath. "I want to teach you the Patronus Charm."

He blinked and looked down at her. "You . . . isn't it very complicated?" he asked.

She nodded. "Technically, yes, but . . . I think the biggest problem is finding the happy memory to cling to, and then knowing that you could do it. Harry had a problem at first as well. His Patronus was mostly a large shield, but during third year when we had that little . . . adventure . . . with the Time-Turner, he saw that he could do it, and then because he'd already seen it, it sort of just . . . gave him the confidence to do it."

"You're saying that because I know for a fact that my older self can cast a Patronus, that I'll have the confidence to do it myself," he said, and Hermione smiled her answer up at him before placing a soft kiss to his lips. "Do you think it will still be . . . of course it'll be a wolf," he muttered but then kissed her before she had a chance to scold him for his self-deprecating tone.

A frustrating two hours went by and, though he was eventually able to conjure a shield, it had yet to take corporeal form other than a single paw that vanished almost instantly. Remus refused to quit, though, and he felt a smug confidence whenever Hermione beamed at him, her eyes twinkling in the reflected light of the charm. Every so often she would cast her own Patronus, and the little otter would swim about, often placing its paws against Remus's cheeks before doing a few flips and turns and then vanishing again.

Hermione, wearing what Remus had come to learn was her research face, looked over his posture, examined the way he held his wand, and then turned her attention to his eyes, as though she could see through them and diagnose the problem from within. "What memory are you using? Maybe it's not strong enough."

Remus swallowed hard and broke eye contact, choosing to stare at the ground instead. "The umm . . . the first full moon when Sirius, James, and Peter showed me their Animagus forms. That's the happiest I've got, I think."

Her eyes widened a fraction of an inch and she let out a soft sigh, sitting back on her heels. "Are you thinking . . . are you letting what you know about Pettigrew now infiltrate that memory?"

Grimacing at being read so easily, Remus nodded. "Yes. I can't . . . I can't block it out. He's literally ruined my happiest moment in life."

"What about before Hogwarts?" she asked, trying to take a different turn.

"Not much was . . . things weren't good," he said defeatedly. "Stressful even when they were happy."

"How about now?"

He paused, stumbling through his anger and bitterness, caught off guard by her question. Looking down at her, he couldn't help but smile at the anxious look in her eyes. Like she was hoping, as though she didn't already know, that somehow his life was better here. "You make me happy," he whispered and then leant closer, perched on his knees as he hovered over her, brushing his lips against her jaw and cheek and earlobe. "Are  _you_ my Patronus? A happy little piece of magic that fights away my demons and lights up the room."

Hermione sighed happily and ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to her. "How are you so . . ."

"Charming?" he asked, trying to come off as dashingly smug the way that Sirius was often able to, but the extra inflexion he added to the question had him coming off as a bit awkward.

Hermione liked awkward. "You're terrible right now," she said teasingly and then pressed her cheek against his chest, inhaling deeply. "No . . . how are you just so perfect for me?"

Remus frowned, almost feeling like the scars all over his body were suddenly glowing in the dark as though they needed to remind her they were there because she'd clearly forgotten. "I am not perfect. I'm a—"

"Werewolf.  _My_ werewolf," she interrupted, nuzzling her head against the underside of his chin, rubbing her nose along the hollow of his throat that pulled a primal noise of content from him. "And perfect  _for me_. You just . . . magically showed up one day and everything good fell into place for me. I'm so sorry that you've had so many bad memories, and now many of your good ones have been tainted. But I can't help but feel a little selfish in that I'm glad that whatever we've both gone through has led us here."

Sighing with relief, Remus held her close and buried his nose in her hair. "I don't know how I'd deal with anything in this world without you."

"You'd still have Professor Lupin, and Tonks, Sirius, Harry—"

" _You_. You are—"

"I love you."

He froze at the words. Words that had only ever been spoken to him by his parents when they'd apologise for locking him in a cage in the basement, or by James and Sirius—never Peter—after too much firewhisky. Once by Lily, who was grateful that he'd copied notes from History of Magic when she'd been out sick for a few days when one of James's attempt at wooing her had backfired and the chocolates sent to her for her birthday ended up being strawberry flavoured, something she was evidently allergic to.

Nervous that it had happened only in his mind, Remus cleared his throat and asked, "What?"

She pulled away from him, just enough so that she could look into his eyes. "In case you didn't realise. You seemed disappointed when my Patronus wasn't a wolf. Because, apparently, a great emotional upheaval might have changed it. I want . . . the shape of my Patronus doesn't dictate how I feel. I'm sorry if you had reason to doubt that . . . I love you, Remus."

Chest aching, Remus momentarily contemplated stealing her away into the night. Throwing the witch over his shoulder and disappearing into the woods like those trashy werewolf romance novels always wrote about. It was awful and cliche and the logistics were improbable considering they'd eventually need to eat and someone would likely come looking for them but . . . but he wanted to keep her forever. To have her and hold her and keep this moment locked away and never let it go. Never let her go.

His voice broke when he tried to reply. "I . . . I never thought . . . I . . ."

Hermione bit the bottom corner of her lip and smiled awkwardly. "Not to be needy or anything but . . ." she prompted.

He grinned and kissed her softly, letting his bottom lip coax both of hers to open for him. "I love you, Hermione," he whispered. "You're just . . . you're everything that's good about this world and my life and . . . I love you."

Straddling his waist, Hermione rolled her hips against him and smiled when he growled against the skin of her neck, a spot that he favoured with hot, wet kisses and the occasional graze of his teeth. His shirt and her blouse were tossed to the side as they used body heat to keep one another warm. Hermione moaned, arching her back when he mouthed her breast through the thin fabric of her bra, reaching around to fumble at unclasping the hooks at her back in the darkness.

Desperate for light and overcome with happiness and newfound confidence, Remus ignored the  _Lumos_ that was on the tip of his tongue, and instead whispered, " _Expecto Patronum_ ". He grinned, bright-eyed, when the silver spectral wolf lit up the tunnel around them, offering just enough light that Remus was able to see what he was doing when he pulled her bra straps down her arms, and the way her nipples pebbled against the cold just before he took one in his mouth.


	27. Chapter 27

**October 26th, 1996**

"You wouldn't even like the party, trust me," Remus told Ron as they walked to Potions. Normally, he would have had a great deal of sympathy for his friend's feelings of neglect from their professor. Remus had watched the same thing happen to Peter time and time again, though Ron was quite a bit more vocal about his displeasure at being left out.

It was, however, the day of the full moon, and in addition to having a splitting headache, Remus woke with an aching need to bury himself in Hermione and never come out again. His witch, though, was more concerned about an exam in Arithmancy later on, and wasn't even keen on the idea of sneaking away for a quick snog, let alone losing her virginity to a randy werewolf because he was a bit twitchy.

Putting up with Ron's complaints was quickly growing old.

Ron, hands shoved into his pockets as he slumped forward, sighed loudly. "You're only saying that because you get to go."

"It's not like Professor Slughorn invited me," Remus snapped. "You should have seen the look on his face when he figured out who I was. Or . . . well, who I was  _related_ to. He knows Lupin is a werewolf, that I'm likely a werewolf, and that I was friends with a bunch of people who either got killed or arrested for murder. I think his distaste for me is a bit higher than his ignorance of you."

A few passing students gaped and gave Remus and Ron a wide berth in the hallway. Ron, however, still missed the potentially dangerous tone in Remus's voice. "Doesn't even know my name. Called me Wilbur the other day. How do you even get Wilbur out of Ronald?"

Remus sighed, and reached out, patting his friend on the shoulder. "He doesn't know your name because you're of no  _use_ to him. Slughorn is a brilliant wizard when it comes to potions, and he's the nicest Slytherin that you're likely to meet, but he's still a Slytherin."

Ron scoffed. "Thought you were all friendly with the snakes?"

"I'm friends . . . sort of . . . with Draco, yes." Remus agreed. "But Slytherins are ambitious. It's not always a bad thing, but Slytherins like Slughorn are in it for themselves. He came back to Hogwarts because of Harry. He acted the same way with Lily that he acts with Hermione," he said, remembering watching as the Potions Master fawned over Lily Evans as though she were a magical miracle that he'd personally discovered, intent on riding her coattails into fame and fortune. "Like Muggle-borns are these fascinating creatures and 'look how well they can hold a wand when trained properly'. He likes bloody Cormac McLaggen, mate. What more reason do you need to not want to be one of his favourites?"

Letting out a loud laugh at that, Ron turned and grinned at his friend. "You make a good point, I guess. Still . . . I'm the  _only_ one not going to that party," he whinged.

"If you want to go so bad, I'll tell Hermione I can't go, and ask her to bring you along."

"What, like a pity . . . er . . . not date but . . ."

"Why don't you find something else fun to do?  _Actual_ fun. Unlike what  _we'll_ be doing," Remus suggested.

Hermione rushed up behind the boys, flicking them each in the ear. Ron scowled at her but Remus turned and actually snarled. Hermione ignored both of them. "Can you two keep it down? I could hear you all the way down the hall. What if Professor Slughorn came around the corner?"

"Then I wouldn't have to go to the party?" Remus angrily suggested, rubbing the shell of his ear.

She frowned. "You really don't want to go with me?"

"Be stuck in a room with a bunch of people who'd gladly look down their nose at me if they weren't running away screaming if they knew what I was and—"

Ignoring Remus's bitter mutterings, Hermione turned on Ron, eyes blazing. "This is your fault. He was perfectly fine this morning, but your pouting has rubbed off on him."

Remus scowled. "I'm right here, Hermione."

"You don't want to go to the party?" she asked Remus and then shrugged. "Fine. You're uninvited. Ronald, would you like to accompany me to Slughorn's Christmas party?"

Ron, eyes wide and looking back and forth between the angry witch and the growling werewolf, stumbled over his answer. "W-what? Er . . . umm . . . no?" he said, glancing at Remus when he finally, sort of, made a decision.

Huffing, Hermione spun around and headed for the door to the classroom. "Fine, maybe I'll just see if Cormac has a date!"

Remus snarled viciously. "Over my dead body."

She twirled around, her hair following in a wave of curls behind her. "I am not asking your permission!" she snapped and then, spotting the golden ring around his normally green eyes, she caught herself and sighed. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I'm stressed about Arithmancy and . . . look . . . I know the full moon is tonight, and don't you dare try to argue with me Remus Lupin," she said quickly when he opened his mouth to speak, nostrils flared in objection. "You need to calm down." Hermione reached out, taking his face in her hands. "I'm sorry I snapped. But right now, you're overreacting to everything because of the moon. Take a deep breath."

Hands shaking, pacified by her apology, and knowing that she was right, Remus grabbed hold of her and pulled her close, burying his nose in her hair and deeply breathing in the calming scent of rose oil and oranges, letting it dose him like a Calming Draught. "Maybe I should go to the Hospital Wing early."

"Do you really feel that you need to?" Hermione asked, sympathetic once again to his plight. "It's okay if you feel that you need to, Remus. No one will think poorly of you."

He thought about it for a long minute and then shook his head. "No. I'll be fine."

He was not, however, fine.

An hour later, Slughorn moved from table to table, his large belly brushing up against boiling caldrons, organised ingredients, and occasionally Remus's side, invading the wolf's personal space. "Now, you must add the shrivelfig when the smell of the potion turns sour and not a moment earlier. Since the colour will remain the same for the duration of the brewing, we must rely on our sense of smell for proper timing."

Remus stared down at his potion, which had smelled sour from the beginning. Overwhelmed by the steam pouring out of it, and out of every other cauldron nearby, Remus couldn't focus. When he tried to close his eyes and clear his mind, he could smell everything in Slughorn's ingredient cupboard, and everything mixed together overwhelmed him. He knew he should have asked Hermione for help, or even Harry—Slughorn's new favourite prodigy—but his pride got in the way.

"Yes, wonderful, Mister Zabini, wonderful! Oh, lovely, Miss Granger and goodness, Harry m'boy, your mother would be proud! This is nearly perfect!" Slughorn praised, and Remus could hear Hermione grinding her teeth. "Oh umm . . . have you not added in the shrivel fig, Mister Lupin?"

"I umm . . ."

"When it smells sour, now. It's not hard to pinpoint. Perhaps another time, yes?"

Overwhelmed by smells and sounds, Remus angrily pushed his cauldron to the edge of the desk and watched as it tipped over, crashing to the ground and spilling the sour-smelling brew across the floor.

* * *

The look on Ron and Harry's faces, Remus thought, had been worth the detention. Hermione's disappointment, however, had been less amusing. Remus quietly left the classroom and made his way through the dungeons in the direction of McGonagall's office, where Slughorn had suggested he go, to inform his Head of House of his childish antics. Despite the slight guilt he felt, Remus was looking forward to at least speaking to a professor who understood, somewhat, the difficulties he was having.

"In a rush somewhere, Lupin?"

Remus stopped in his tracks and took in a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. The wolf inside his head began pacing, scratching at the walls, and raging in a nearly blinding bloodlust. "Mother of fucking . . . now's not the time, McLaggen."

Cormac approached him, hands in his pockets and head held high as though he were the King of Hogwarts, lazily strolling through his kingdom. "Aren't you in a mood. Looking sick as well," Cormac noted with a smug smirk. "Then again, I've heard a few things about some illnesses going about. Surprised that Granger hasn't caught anything from you. Perhaps you should do right by the poor witch and let her go. She'll have a normal life with someone much more . . ."

"Don't you say a word about Hermione," Remus snarled, eyes glowing amber.

Cormac appeared more than amused that he had provoked the wolf to the surface, as though it were all some great experiment. "Not a word? What're  _you_ going to do about it?" he asked and waited. When Remus did nothing but shake in anger, trying to control himself, Cormac laughed. "See? Nothing. I guess the rumours are just that. Whatever you are, you're  _tame_. And as for words about Granger, I've got several. Most of them I imagine she'll be screaming when I—"

* * *

Minerva opened her office door to see a wincing Remus standing in front of her, refusing to make eye contact with her. "Mister Lupin, what brings you to my office at this hour? Shouldn't you be in Potions?"

He sighed heavily. "I've come to be punished. I broke a cauldron in class."

The old witch held back a small nostalgic laugh, having recalled that the closer to the full moon it got, the more things tended to break under Remus's careful watch. "Well, I remember your outbursts long ago," she told him and opened her door to the boy. "A broken cauldron is the least of my worries," she confessed. "Come in and sit down. I'll make some hot chocolate for you and you can have a moment to calm yourself. Plenty more to worry about tonight, I think, than a broken cauldron."

"I'll need several detentions as well," he told her as he stepped inside the office.

She lifted a brow. "I would have thought that Professor Slughorn would have handled that himself."

Remus cleared his throat. "Well, y'see . . . in addition to the cauldron, I may have also broken all the fingers in Cormac McLaggen's right hand."

* * *

In the darkness of the Shrieking Shack, Remus thought little about his collected detentions or the fact that Cormac McLaggen had been too proud to admit that his broken hand was caused by him, instead saying that he'd punched a suit of armour on a dare. Remus thought little about broken cauldrons or future Christmas parties.

He only thought about pain.

And loneliness.

Just as he began undressing, folding his clothes and setting them aside, a bright light infiltrated the shack and Remus turned, terrified that someone was coming. Flashbacks to waking up the night after he'd almost killed Snape, Remus began searching for somewhere to go, someway to hide from whoever was on their way.

Instead of opening the door, the light phased through the door, and Remus's mouth fell open at the sight of the massive stag Patronus standing in front of him. Eyes wide and heart beating hard, Remus swallowed down his emotions and whispered, "Prongs."

The stag turned, looking behind it just as two more lights emerged through the door. The first, a tiny dog that sniffed at the floor before circling the stag's legs, stopping once to chase its own tail before turning its focus on Remus, who laughed. The second light, the beautiful little otter, swam in the air and approached Remus, putting its paws on his face.

They weren't advanced enough to speak, not like Tonks's and Lupin's Patronus wolves had been, but the message that had been sent was clear.

_We're with you._

Pain came with the rising moon and Remus's bones snapped and his muscles tore, and when he was reformed into something else, he looked up and felt relieved at the sight of the Patronuses, standing there, waiting. It wasn't the same as having actual animals—Animagi—but to know that he wasn't alone . . . it was enough.

* * *

**November 8th, 1996**

"Quit pouting."

Ron looked up from his place on the sofa next to Harry, glaring at Hermione who was practically sitting in Remus's lap, her legs draped over his as she read the seventh year text for Charms, long since done with her homework while the rest of the common room was struggling to finish their essays and reading assignments for various classes. He sighed, rolling his eyes when he caught her subconsciously brushing her fingers against the back of Remus's neck. "Everyone's snogging but me."

Hermione sighed and looked back at her book and Remus glanced up, offering Ron a look of sympathy.

"I'm not," Harry pointed out, his own gaze flickering over the couch to the window where Dean and Ginny were playing Exploding Snap.

"'Course you're not," Ron said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "You're on  _my_ side."

"I'm not snogging anyone," Neville muttered, looking up at his friends from the Transfigurations book that Hermione had loaned him.

Ron shrugged. "Yeah well . . ."

Hermione threw down her book with a frustrated sigh. "Ronald, stop trying to ruin everyone else's good moods because you're in a foul one. Ginny is a woman capable of making her own decisions with whomever she chooses."

He'd been in a mood ever since catching his sister with her boyfriend. Ginny had said hurtful things and, adding that to the stress he had over the upcoming Quidditch game, Ron had been miserable with everyone, couples most especially. It didn't help that Cormac McLaggen made a point to remind him that had he not accidentally injured himself, Ron would be sitting on the sidelines during the game, where he apparently belonged.

"This is your fault, y'know," Ron muttered enviously, flicking his hand at Remus and Hermione. "Maybe Ginny wouldn't be snogging Dean behind tapestries if the two of you weren't shagging in—"

"WHAT?!"

Hermione flung her legs off of Remus's lap, her wild curls moving behind her as though there were a wind storm as she stood with hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes down in righteous fury at her redheaded friend. Everyone in the common room fell silent and turned to watch.

Ron tried to swallow his fear, wishing he could swallow his last few words. "I didn't mean . . . I just . . ."

"What Remus and I do or do not do is none of your business, Ronald Weasley!" she snapped at him. "Neither is whatever your sister does with Dean, for that matter! Stop pouting! Stop feeling sorry for yourself! And stop taking out your insecurities on everyone else!"

"I'm not—"

"And for the love of Merlin, go and snog Lavender before the poor girl dies of dehydration because she cries herself to sleep every night thinking that you don't like her when the truth of the matter is that you're positively oblivious!" Hermione grabbed her books and stormed off toward the girls' dormitories, flinging the door shut on her way, leaving a loud echo throughout the Tower.

Ron's blue eyes were wide in shock and confusion in the wake of Hermione's wrath. "Lavender . . . I . . . what?"

Remus sighed and stood up, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Oh, mate . . . just smile and nod and apologise when she calms down."

Ron looked up, ears red from embarrassment. "You and Hermione really aren't . . ." he whispered. "I mean you haven't . . ."

"None of your business."

Ron nodded his head, a bit flustered. "You'd tell us though, right?" he curiously asked. Both Harry and Neville turned their attention to the other side of the common room as if to distance themselves from the conversation completely.

Remus laughed and shook his head. "Nope."

* * *

**November 9th, 1996**

The Gryffindor table, a solid mass of red and gold, cheered as Harry and Ron approached. Harry grinned and waved; Ron grimaced weakly and shook his head.

"Cheer up, Ron!" Lavender said. "I know you'll be brilliant!"

Ron ignored her.

"Tea?" Harry asked him. "Coffee? Pumpkin juice?"

"Anything," Ron glumly replied, taking a moody bite of toast.

Hermione and Remus joined them, followed behind by Neville. She glared at the redhead, still angry about the fight from the day before in the common room. Ron looked up at her, already green in the face due to nerves, and frowned guiltily. "Sorry, 'Mione. I wasn't thinking and . . . I was just jealous and . . . I'm sorry."

She huffed and then sat down across from him. "I forgive you. I know you're nervous, but you've no reason to be. You're going to do just fine out there. Even if you don't win, I imagine the team will be plenty happier to have you as their Keeper than Cormac, no matter the outcome."

"Hermione's right about that," Harry insisted. "We're well rid of him. And you're going to be great, Ron. Just get in a good breakfast. Drink up."

Hermione stared suspiciously at Harry before her eyes widened. "Don't drink that, Ron!"

Both Harry and Ron looked up at her.

"Why not?" said Ron.

Hermione was now staring at Harry as though she could not believe her eyes. "You just put something in that drink."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron's drink. You've got the bottle in your hand right now!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Harry, stowing the little bottle hastily into his pocket.

"Ron, I warn you, don't drink it!" Hermione said again, alarmed, but Ron picked up the glass, draining it in one gulp. She looked scandalised. Bending low so that only Harry could hear her, she hissed, "You should be expelled for that. I'd never have believed it of you, Harry!" before storming away from the table.

Remus reached across the table and snatched up Ron's empty glass, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deep. He raised a confused brow, not picking up a scent of what Hermione had implied. He looked across the table at Ron and Harry inquisitively. Ron still looked worried and upset, but Harry's green eyes were stern and wide as he stared at Remus, trying to have a silent conversation with the wolf.

Suddenly understanding, Remus shook his head and sighed. "I think you'll do fine, Ron," Remus said. "I would wish you luck, but I think you've got quite enough for the moment."

Ron looked up, confused. "Luck? Are you having a laugh? I'll be lucky if I don't die out there."

Remus slowly pushed the glass back across the table, letting the sound of it scraping against the wood linger. "You're going to be fine. Brilliant even. A perfect game, I'd say," he said and then winked.

Harry grinned.

Confused, Ron turned and looked at Harry, catching the expression on his friend's face. He looked back at the empty glass and his mouth fell open. "I . . . you . . ." Ron had dropped his voice, he looked both scared and excited. "My drink . . . my pumpkin juice . . . you didn't . . . ?"

Harry raised his eyebrows but said nothing except, "We should head out to the pitch."

* * *

Remus informed an angry Hermione of what he suspected regarding Ron's pumpkin juice, and she spent the entire Quidditch game screaming her support of Ron while purposely avoiding even glancing in Harry's direction unless a Bludger was headed for him. For every goal that Ron saved, Hermione stood up and shouted, nearly bouncing on the stands in an effort to build him up. Remus grinned at her efforts and he and Neville both convinced the rest of Gryffindor to begin chanting, "Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!" before Seamus and Dean taught the wolf a song that had been written—and then re-written—just for Ron.

_Weasley is Our King_  echoed through the stands as Gryffindor won the match by a landslide. Everyone stood to leave, Seamus and Dean already whispering conspiratorially about sneaking firewhisky and butterbeers into the celebratory party, courtesy of Fred and George's secret stash. Hermione grabbed Remus's hand and pulled him through the crowd. Neville chuckled at the sight before following after Seamus and Dean to make sure the pair didn't get into trouble on the way back to Gryffindor Tower.

Eventually making their way into the changing rooms, Hermione rushed up to Ron and Harry. "Ron! Wait!" she called out and he turned, his bright smile fading into a dark scowl. "So . . . I wanted to apologise. I thought that . . . I thought that Harry was trying to dose your juice with Felix Felicis and I didn't think he was being fair to you by doing that."

He raised a brow. "What do you mean you  _thought_ that . . ." Ron asked and then turned, his eyes widening as he looked at Harry. "You  _didn't_ put Felix in my juice?"

Harry shook his head and grinned. "You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself."

"There  _really_ wasn't anything in my pumpkin juice?" Ron said, astounded. "But the weather's good . . . and Vaisey couldn't play. . . . I honestly haven't been given lucky potion? Then why—"

Hermione frowned. "I just didn't want you two getting into trouble is all."

"I really did it all on my own?"

"What, you're surprised?" Harry asked, clapping Ron on the shoulder. "You made the team on your own, didn't you?"

Ron frowned. "Well . . . only 'cause  _you_ broke McLaggen's hand," he said, looking at Remus, who flushed.

Harry shook his head. "There's more to being a teammate than catching goals. I should have picked you from the beginning. You're a part of the team, McLaggen just wants it to be all about himself."

Ron turned red and grinned. "Well, I'd like a little bit to be all about me every once in awhile."

They all laughed and Harry put his arm around his friend. "Tonight, it's all you, Ron. We celebrate because  _you_ won this game for us!"

* * *

Hermione was separated from her friends when they reached the common room where Ron was hailed a hero and the Creevey brothers cornered Harry, begging for blow-by-blow details of the match despite the fact that they'd just seen it all for themselves. Seamus and Dean began sneaking in butterbeer and firewhisky, and Hermione forced herself to ignore it, knowing that if she ruined her Housemates' celebratory mood, they'd likely throw her off the Astronomy Tower.

She spotted Lavender sitting on a couch in the corner of the room, her eyes locked on Ron from a distance. Smiling, she made her way over her roommate and sat down. "What are you doing over here?" she asked.

Lavender shrugged. "Waiting my turn, I suppose. Ugh, look at Romilda," she said with a glare and Hermione turned to see the younger Gryffindor hanging off of Ron's arm whilst looking across the room at Harry when Ron wasn't paying attention. "She's just awful. I heard her talking to her little friends earlier. Said she's bought up some of those Love Potions that Ron's brothers sell."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "We'll see about that," she said.

"Do you think . . ." Lavender began.

Hermione sighed. "I think you should just go for it," she told her. "If it makes you feel any better, that's what I did with Remus and well . . . look at us." She turned her gaze upward, scanning the room for him and smiled when she saw him, Crookshanks in his hands, trying to pull the kneazle away from Ginny's pygmy puff, Arnold, who was hiding behind the redhead. "I've never been happier."

Lavender smiled and reached out, squeezing Hermione's hand. "I'm glad. You two are quite well matched," she said and then took a deep breath. "Right . . . I'm going for it," she said and then dashed across the common room, literally pushing Romilda Vane to the side which drew Ron's attention.

He glanced down at her and then smiled, awkwardly running his hand through his hair, ears turning red. Without so much as a single word, Lavender launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He stumbled backward before regaining his balance and then scooped the blond witch up against him. Cheers echoed in the room, several wolf whistles coming from Seamus.

Remus chuckled at the commotion and walked over, Crookshanks in his arms. "Ginny's over there calling Ron a hypocrite," he told her.

Hermione laughed and reached her hands out, pulling Crookshanks against her. "Silly cat," she said, kissing the top of his head. "You leave Arnold alone."

Remus sat down and put his arm around Hermione, leaning in and kissing her neck, refusing to move even as Harry approached with a grimace on his face.

"Bloody hell," he said. "Lavender attached herself to Ron's face and suddenly Romilda was trying to do the same to me."

Hermione smirked. "You be careful, Harry. Lavender told me that Romilda was bragging about having some of those rotten Love Potions that Fred and George are selling," she cautioned and he nodded his head in thanks.

"Ridiculous, if you ask me."

Remus growled against Hermione's skin at the voice, and they all turned to see Cormac scowling across the room, his eyes narrowed at the spectacle that Ron and Lavender were making.

"In fact," Cormac continued, "I'm going to write the Board of Governors and complain. Weasley shouldn't have even made the team as a backup. I could have played one-handed and won us the game. The rest of you lot were rubbish," he said, glaring at Harry.

"You're just jealous, McLaggen. Jealous that Remus got the witch and that Ron won the game. And I don't care what happens when your hand heals," Harry said. "You're not back on the team. I'm done dealing with you."

Cormac narrowed his eyes and stepped forward to stand toe to toe with Harry. "You think you're just so great, don't you, Potter? Go on then, let's see what you're made of," he threatened and then reached his good hand for his wand.

Remus stood up and Harry reached for his own wand, but before either could do a thing, Hermione sprung into action. " _Avis! Oppugno!_ " she yelled and a small flock of tiny birds flew out of her wand and began attacking Cormac from above, pecking and scratching at his face and arms.

Cormac screamed, trying to dodge the little creatures as he ran through the common room to the sound of laughter. Harry and Remus turned and grinned at Hermione who looked almost shocked by what she had done. Before she had a chance to say anything—likely an apology in her defense—Remus sprung forward and pulled her into his arms, crashing his lips against hers.


	28. Chapter 28

**December 21st, 1996**

Kings Cross was the typical madhouse just days before Christmas.

Sirius leant up against a wall, watching with amused interest as the Aurors that had been put on him for his own safety were lingering behind a bit, looking unnerved at the amount of Muggles that rushed past them. Sirius nearly lost all composure when a little old lady crashed her trolley into the shin of one stiff-looking Auror. The man hissed in pain and looked up, clearly expecting an apology from the woman, only to be called a cunt and didn't he know that she was running late?!

"Bloody Muggles," the man uttered, rubbing his leg.

Sirius grinned and took a drag from his cigarette, blowing it out the side of his mouth and accidentally into the face of a pretty little brunette. "Sorry there, love," he said, flashing her a wide grin. "Didn't see you."

She turned up her nose at him. "Can you put that out?"

Picking up an accent and tone that reminded him of his cousins, he chuckled. Even Muggles had a class system that looked down on others. "That depends, sweetheart? Are you single?" he asked and winked at her.

She scoffed loudly and huffed in what was obviously feigned shock. The move of clutching at pearls that weren't there was clearly practised. "What? Why, I never."

"I'm sure." He flicked the cigarette to the ground and wiped some of the fallen ash from his fingers off on his jeans.

The woman was still mumbling to herself, offended over his presence, when Sirius took the few seconds of being ignored to his advantage and slipped through the wall that led onto platform nine and three-quarters.

"All the pretty Muggles are married," he said with a sigh. "I really missed out."

The Aurors followed close behind, and Sirius ignored them, favouring instead a wave here and there to the crowd of people who began to whisper amongst themselves about him. "That's right," he said under his breath with a grin. "Go ahead and point and look and smile nervously, all while thinking that I either might kill you in your sleep or wonder how much money I've got in my vaults . . . sheep or vultures. The lot of you."

The train pulled into the station, pulling everyone's attention away from him, and Sirius suddenly looked like any other excited parent, ready for their child to come home for the hols. He watched closely for the kids, searching for that familiar head of messy black hair that left a nostalgic pang in his chest every time he initially saw it.

A head of bushy brown curls came into view first, and Sirius couldn't help but smirk in amusement as he watched young Remus help Hermione off of the train, carrying his own trunk behind in one hand, while helping to drag hers along with the other. Hermione appeared a bit put out by the chivalrous gesture, but allowed it nonetheless.

"There you are!" Sirius said as they approached, reaching out and pulling Remus into a tight hug. "Gods, have I missed you, boy! Old Moony isn't nearly as much fun these days. Seems to think that just because he ran off and got married, he can't go to the pubs with me and pick up pretty birds."

Hermione rolled her eyes while Remus laughed.

"Hermione, Mini-Moony, how're ya doing?" Sirius asked, rocking back on the heels of his dragonhide boots.

She smiled and laced her fingers through Remus's. "We're good, Sirius."

"Where's Harry?"

Remus looked over his shoulder. "Saying goodbye to his girlfriend."

Sirius furrowed his brows and followed Remus's gaze. "Girl—bloody hell," he muttered when he found Harry in the crowd, awkwardly shaking the hand of an excited Xenophilius Lovegood, the little blonde witch at his side smiling at both men with large, adoring eyes. "Would'ya look at that? I always thought he was sweet on little Ginny, but Luna's a nice little witch." Sirius remarked. "A bit . . . barking, but all the fun ones are. And in  _sixth_ year. That's a whole ten months ahead of Prongs. Did he embarrass himself?"

Remus laughed. "Nope. Just asked her to Slughorn's Christmas party."

"Confident and honest. He takes after me then," Sirius said with a grin.

Hermione snorted. "Or, perhaps his mother?"

Shrugging, Sirius conceded, "I suppose Lily had something to do with it."

"Speaking of mothers, where's Mrs Malfoy?" Hermione asked.

Keeping his eyes locked on Harry with the same intensity as the Aurors nearby, Sirius replied, "Locked up for safe keeping with her sister. Those two were long overdue for a reunion. Besides, on the same side or not, we all thought it best that Harry and Draco not spend the holidays cooped up in the same house."

"That's probably for the best," Remus admitted.

Sirius broke his stare for a split second when he saw Draco step off the train and two familiar Aurors immediately stepped up, guiding him away from the crowd and toward the specific Apparition point that had been set aside earlier. Once Draco was out of sight, Sirius turned his attention back to Harry and the Lovegoods once more. "Have there been problems?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Malfoy's been quiet for the most part. The whole of Slytherin House is acting . . . well, they're obviously keeping their heads down. Only a few have even managed to sneer in my general direction this year."

Remus growled in irritation.

"Oh, hush," she said with the glimmer of amusement before kissing his cheek. "I better head out. My parents are waiting for me on the other side. Are you sure you don't want to—"

He shook his head quickly, nervously glancing around the platform as though he were preparing for Hermione's parents to jump out at him from around the corner. "Not this close to the full moon. I'm already a mess around this many strangers and Muggles and . . . I want to make a good impression when I meet them."

"I'll owl you for Christmas then," she said and then stepped aside as Harry approached the small group. With Sirius distracted, Hermione leant up and gently kissed Remus's lips. "I love you."

The young werewolf sighed happily. "I love you."

Their fingers lingered on one another before parting, and Hermione turned and smiled at her best friend as he approached. "Bye, Harry," she said before dashing through the barrier and onto the Muggle side of King's Cross, where she was due to meet up with her parents.

Sirius and Harry both chuckled at the way that Remus stared after her. "They've been like this for months," Harry said with a grin,

Sirius put his arm around Harry, smirking at Remus. "Little Moony in love. Cutest thing I've ever seen," he said and then looked down at Harry. "Hey, turn to the side," he insisted with a frown, taking Harry's face in his hands. Harry grimaced and sighed and then looked up, revealing a sickly looking purple and green bruise on the right side of his cheek. Sirius's eyes blazed with anger instantly. "What the bloody hell, Harry?! Who hit you?"

Harry laughed nervously and then ran a hand through his hair. "That's an interesting story. Cormac McLaggen."

Sirius's eyes widened. "What? That shit that's been harassing Hermione?" he asked, and when Harry nodded, he turned and glared at Remus. "Where the hell were you?"

Remus laughed. "Standing right there."

* * *

**The Night Before**

Slughorn's Christmas party had been rapidly approaching. With Lavender in the picture, Ron had stopped complaining about his lack of an invite, though Remus had begun worrying about the fact that Cormac would be at the event. Harry assured him that he would be there and do his best to prevent Cormac from starting anything. Unfortunately, Harry still didn't have a date.

"I'm going to look like an idiot," Harry said, anxiously running his fingers through his hair. "You know, you'd think I would know better by now. I waited too long for the Yule Ball as well. Went with the Patil sisters, er . . . Ron went with one and I . . . and it was awful."

Remus couldn't help but be amused. "Was it awful because of your date? Or because you waited too long."

"Waited too long."

"You could always go with Romilda Vane," Remus teased. "I hear she fancies you quite a bit."

Harry stared at him. "Did you know she tried to slip me a Love Potion? Twice! I . . . I've no idea what I'm doing, Remus."

Taking pity on his clueless friend, Remus spun Harry around.

Staring down the long corridor, Harry blinked. "What am I looking at?"

"The way to Ravenclaw Tower."

Harry raised a brow. "Raven—"

"Luna."

"Oh." Harry nodded. "Oh . . . right . . . er . . ." He swallowed thickly.

"Off with you," Remus said, shoving Harry's shoulders forward, giving him the momentum to start walking.

Hermione had caught up with Remus on her way back from the library, noticing the curious and amused grin on his face. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Shh," he said and pulled her in close to him, pressing her back to his chest before leaning forward. "Quiet. Look around, just there," he said.

Lifting a brow, Hermione shrugged and did as told, turning and glancing around the corner where she spotted Harry toeing the ground awkwardly, one hand in the pocket of his robes, the other fidgeting with his hair as he looked down at Luna, who was smiling up at him from her seated position on the floor, surrounded by a collection of weeds that she was fashioning into what looked like a crown or wreath of sorts.

Hermione looked back at Remus, who lifted up one end of an Extendable Ear and grinned. Her mouth fell open. "Are you spying on them, Remus?" she asked in a scolding tone. He chuckled and rolled his eyes, bringing the other end of the ear up between them so that they could both hear.

"So have you had a good term?"

"Oh, it's been all right," Luna replied. "A bit lonely without the D.A. Ginny's been nice, though. She stopped two boys in our Transfiguration class from calling me 'Loony' the other day—"

"How would you like to come to Slughorn's party with me tonight?"

Hermione's mouth fell open in shock.

"Slughorn's party? With you?"

"Yeah. We're supposed to bring guests, so I thought you might like . . . I mean . . . I mean, just as friends, you know."

Remus rolled his eyes dramatically.

"I'd love to go with you as friends!" Luna said excitedly. "Nobody's ever asked me to a party before, as a friend!"

"Oh, grand, er . . . I mean . . . unless you'd like to—"

"AHA!" screamed a voice from overhead. Remus and Hermione both jumped and turned around the corner to see Peeves, who was hanging upside down from a chandelier and grinning maliciously at Harry and Luna. "Potty asked Loony to go to the party! Potty lurves Loony! Potty luuuuurves Looooooony!" And he zoomed away, cackling and shrieking, "Potty loves Loony!"

Harry sighed in frustration and embarrassment, his cheeks bright red.

Luna, appearing to take pity on him, smiled. "Or . . . if you'd like, we could go together. A proper date."

Slughorn's party was as awkward and horrible as they'd all thought it would be. Their professor took Harry by the shoulders, ignoring all of his other students as he marched the boy around like a great trophy, showing him off to Slug Club members of the past.

In between dodging Professor Slughorn, they also were stepping around Professor Trelawney who was very intrigued by Harry being the Chosen One. She'd taken two glances in Remus's direction, eyes crossing as she examined what he could only assume was his aura, before Luna put her hand on the woman's arm and smiled. "It's very pretty, isn't it?" the little blonde witch had said, and Professor Trelawney had been distracted enough for Hermione and Remus to duck away.

Turning the corner in an attempt to escape Snape's wrathful path, Hermione ran head first into Cormac.

"Well, well. Can't keep your hands off me, can you Granger?"

Remus snarled and stepped forward. Cormac had the sense to at least flinch. Though he raised up his chin and glared. "Do it, Lupin," he threatened. "You hit me one more time, and I'll have you thrown in a kennel."

"You got a problem, McLaggen?" Harry said, approaching his friends.

"Not with you, Potter. Just with Lupin. He's having a bit of a temper tantrum because he can't seem to keep his witch under control."

Hermione spun Remus around before he lost his cool, though Harry looked just as angry. Cormac laughed and took a long drink from his glass, clearly from Slughorn's decent stash of firewhisky; the smell was so strong it was practically visible.

"Remus," Harry said, taking in a sharp breath, clearly steeling his nerves. "Do you trust me?"

Remus turned his growling face away from Cormac and tried to calm down as he looked at Harry, focusing on the way that Hermione's hands felt against his chest. "Of course, why?"

Harry smirked. "Push McLaggen. Just a little shove."

Luna tilted her head to the side in interest. "Oh yes," she said. "That would do the trick."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Remus . . ." she cautioned.

But if Remus had ever been one thing in his whole life, it was a boy who trusted his friends, sometimes despite his best interests. He turned, took one look at Cormac who was eyeing Hermione's backside with interest, and gave the man a quick shove.

The firewhisky spilt on Cormac's dress robes, and the former Gryffindor Keeper threw his glass down in anger, the sound of it shattering on the floor drew the attention of the whole room. Cormac made a fist and threw it out and, just before it collided with Remus, Harry shoved his friend out of the way, taking the punch.

Slughorn gasped loudly, and everyone began whispering to themselves as Hermione and Luna both fell to Harry's sides, asking to know if he was all right.

"Did you see?" people began to mutter to one another. "That boy hit Harry Potter!"

"Just punched him!"

"Is that Tiberius's nephew? I never did like that family."

"Can you believe it? How uncouth! Who on earth let him in here?"

* * *

"And Snape escorted McLaggen out of the party while Slughorn was banning him from the Slug Club forever," Harry said with a grin. "He thought he could harass witches and werewolves before, for some stupid reason, the Wizarding world thinks that people like Hermione and Remus are less than they are. Well, turns out it's a lot more damaging to a person's reputation to punch the Boy Who Lived."

Sirius smiled affectionately at Harry. "You . . . are a good friend."

Remus grinned. "That's what I told him."

Looking over the bruise, Sirius frowned again. "How come no one offered to fix this for you?"

Harry laughed. "They did. But I thought I'd wear it on the train ride. People were hexing McLaggen the whole way."

"That might be the most brilliant thing I've ever heard. But don't do something like that again, y'hear?" Sirius said firmly. "No one hits my kid. No one!"

Smiling, Harry agreed. "One-time deal, Sirius. I promise."

"Good. So, the party was a success then? I saw you with the little Lovegood witch. Thought you fancied Ginny."

Cheeks turning pink, Harry shrugged. "I did, but . . . well, she's dating Dean Thomas, and he's my friend."

"You're a good man, Harry. Friends first," Sirius said, patting the boy on the back as they began heading for the barrier, waiting for the Aurors to follow behind.

"Well, Ginny's my friend too," Harry admitted with a sigh. "I shouldn't wish for them to break up just because I was jealous. Plus, Luna's great."

Remus chuckled at the happy grin on his friend's face. "It probably also helps that she doesn't look a thing like your mother."

Harry's grin faded immediately and his green eyes widened in horror. "Oh . . . oh gods, I never even . . . oh gods."

Sirius and Remus both laughed. The Animagus gave his godson a sympathetic smile. "And look at that! He's completely over Ginny!"

Harry scowled. "Shut it. Where's Lupin?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

Sirius sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. "I stopped by his and Tonks's place, and she wasn't feeling too well. I told him to stick around because a sick witch is an angry witch when not properly waited upon. He said he'll come by Grimmauld Place tomorrow or the next if she's feeling better. At the very least, we'll see him for the full moon."

* * *

**December 23rd, 1996**

Remus was pleased to find that Grimmauld Place was much less dreary during Christmas holidays. Sirius, as Harry had told him, had a problem when it came to decorating, and the whole of Black Manor was covered from floor to ceiling in tinsel. Dull grey and black walls were covered with twinkling lights, and the old portrait of Walburga Black had been Silenced and then covered in wrapping paper and a bright red bow.

Though Kreacher was banned to Hogwarts permanently, Dobby, a Hogwarts elf that had once belonged to the Malfoy family, dropped in once to bestow a brightly wrapped box filled with mismatched socks for Harry.

"Does Harry Potter's wolfy want socks too?" Dobby had asked.

Harry laughed until he couldn't breathe and Remus politely said that he was fine. When Dobby vanished, he turned and looked at Harry. "Wolfy? Really?"

Harry snickered. "He calls Ron my Wheezy."

Unable to stop himself, Remus snorted. "What does he call Hermione?"

"Most house-elves just call her scary," Harry replied. "Has she told you about the time she tried to free all the Hogwarts house-elves by tricking them into picking up socks and hats that she knitted herself?"

Remus frowned. "That's not how—"

Laughing, Harry nodded. "I know. But she didn't. She's still a bit off when it comes to house-elves, but don't you dare tell her I said that."

"House-elves aren't the only ones that think Hermione is scary," Remus said with a grin.

Sirius went through the house singing Christmas carols at the top of his lungs, reminding Remus of holidays spent at Potter Manor, where he and his friends would sit around the big fireplace in the drawing room, while Charlus would read Christmas stories, and Dorea would bake cookies for everyone. Sirius and James would sing, and Remus and Peter would howl, making fun of them.

As much as he missed James and Peter, or the Peter that he knew, Remus was glad to know that Sirius was still around, and despite the many years and horrible things he'd been through, the man hadn't completely changed from how Remus remembered him.

Hermione wrote letters as usual, and Mrs Weasley had presents delivered, insisting that the boys could open them up early, seeing as it was getting quite cold, and she didn't trust that Sirius could adequately keep Grimmauld Place warm enough. The night before the full moon, Harry and Remus opened their gifts from Mrs Weasley, and Remus tried to swallow down the rising emotion in his chest at the soft feel of wool beneath his fingers. The hand-knit blue jumper fit him perfectly, and he couldn't help but have a small chuckle at the white silhouette of a wolf that she'd put into the pattern.

Looking up, he smiled as Harry's hair stood up, filled with static, as he pulled the jumper over his head, a bright gold Snitch on the front of his. "Did you get one, Padfoot?" Remus asked.

Sirius sat by the fireplace, tapping his foot impatiently, glass of firewhisky in hand as he stared out a nearby window. "What's that?" he asked, looking up.

"I said, did Mrs Weasley knit you a jumper as well?"

The man shook his head. "I told her firewhisky warms my bones," he said with the slightest smirk. "She did send over a great big steak and kidney pie, just for me."

"What's wrong?" Remus asked.

Sirius frowned. "Moony was supposed to be here this morning. And he's not answering the Floo at his cottage."

The wolf inside of Remus panicked at the words. "What? I thought you said he was at home with Tonks!"

Harry looked up, brows furrowed. "Do you think something happened? Should we tell Dumbledore?"

Sirius shook his head and sighed. "No, no . . . I just . . ." He growled and stood up. "I'm going to check in with Andromeda. Maybe she's heard from Tonks. The pair of you don't leave this damned house, you hear?"

They both nodded and watched as Sirius vanished through the fireplace in a whirl of green flames.

"I'm sure Lupin's fine, Remus," Harry said.

After ten minutes of anxiously staring at the fireplace, Harry stood up. "Come on, let's see if there's any treacle tart leftover from dinner. We're not to leave the house and we'll drive ourselves mental if we just sit here. If he's not back in another ten minutes, I'll firecall . . . I dunno, everyone."

Remus nodded and followed after Harry.

The door to the kitchen wasn't shut for more than a minute before they heard the whooshing sound from the Floo, followed by loud cursing coming from both Sirius and Lupin. "—stupid, fucking wanker!"

"You have no idea, Sirius! None!"

"She's my cousin, you twat! Is that why you didn't show up? Think I'd hit you?"

"You  _did_ hit me!"

"You had it coming!"

Harry and Remus rushed back into the room and were wide-eyed when they saw a dishevelled Lupin standing there, looking twice as bad as they'd ever seen him post-moon. His face was pale and gaunt, save for the bloody lip that looked quite fresh. Sirius, on the other hand, looked lively, face red and eyes blazing.

"What happened?" Harry asked. "Was Tonks hurt? Was it Death Eaters?"

Sirius turned and glared at Lupin. "I don't know, Moony, was Tonks hurt by Death Eaters?!"

Lupin shook his head. "No, she's just . . . she's safe at her mother's house. She'll be fine there."

Remus stared at his older counterpart, reading the expression on his face quite well. He'd seen it enough in the mirror growing up: shame. "What did you do?"

"Everything is fine, thank you," Lupin said pointedly until Sirius growled and elbowed him in the ribs. "Er . . . Tonks is . . . Tonks is going to have a baby."

"Congratulations!" Harry shouted with a smile, and Sirius smirked proudly at the boy.

Remus felt a bone-deep chill run through his body as panic set in, but then he could hear Hermione's voice reminding him repeatedly of who he was and not what he was. That werewolves were people and that he wasn't some ticking time bomb, ready to infect the first person that got too close. The look on Lupin's face told the younger werewolf that the older man didn't have a Hermione in his head. "Is she okay?" he finally asked.

"She . . . she most certainly is not okay," Lupin said, his voice breaking into a sob.

"Ignore him," Sirius snapped. "He's fucking stupid and he's going to sleep it off here and then go back and grovel like the shit that he is when the moon is over. It'll be Christmas then, and you better hope you've bought her something nice."

"I am not going back," Lupin said. "I've already owled Dumbledore and agreed to go back . . . go back into the werewolf packs and spy for—"

"You did what?! You can't do that!" Remus yelled. "You can't leave Tonks! Not now!"

"You don't understand," Lupin said.

"Explain, then," Harry snapped.

Lupin swallowed. "I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgement and I have regretted it very much ever since."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You're so fucking dramatic."

"Don't you understand what I've done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her; I've made her an outcast!" Lupin yelled and kicked a nearby chair, sending it across the room. "Don't you see what I've done? Even her own family is disgusted by our marriage, what parents want their only daughter to marry a werewolf? And the child—the child—"

"The kid's going to be just fine, Moony," Sirius said, grabbing his spiralling best friend by the shoulders. "Look at Mini-Moony over there," he said. "Everyone thinks that he's your kid, and he's doing just fine, aren't you?"

Remus nodded. "No one cares. No one that matters."

Lupin cried and reached up, seizing handfuls of his own hair. "What if . . . Sirius, it's going to be like me. Like us," he corrected and looked at Remus. "How can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my own condition to an innocent child?"

Remus shuddered in horror, remembering being a small boy and screaming in agony while his parents locked him in a cage to transform and tear himself apart. The memories were one thing for him, and despite knowing how old he'd been when Greyback infected him, it felt different to look at others of a similar age. Sometimes, Remus would find himself staring at the first years back at Hogwarts, and imagining any of them being infected, and the horror of what they'd face, being so young. Lupin's fear was understandable. Remus didn't think a baby would survive even one transformation, werewolf healing or not. "You can't pass it on," he found himself saying, hearing Hermione's voice echo in his mind once again. "We can only be infected by a bite. You didn't infect Tonks, you didn't . . ."

"Even if the child isn't . . . isn't infected, I've done a horrible thing. Tonks and the baby will live forever with the rest of our world looking at them in disgust."

"Like people look at Hermione?" Remus asked, amber eyes narrowed.

Lupin looked up. "That's not—"

"Not the same thing?" Remus snapped angrily. "You told me I could have a life! That I could have love! And I still believe that. Go back to Tonks. Apologise, beg for her forgiveness. She'll understand."

"I can't," Lupin said.

"I'd never have believed this," Harry said. "The man who taught me to fight dementors—a coward."

Sirius frowned at the look of heartbreak on Lupin's face hearing Harry's words. "The boys are right, Moony. C'mon. Let's get you a drink and you can sleep it—"

"No, I . . . I can't be here," Lupin said and then ran past both Harry and Remus, making his way for the door.

"Moony!" Sirius shouted after him, but before he could reach the front door, there was the loud cracking sound of Apparition, and Lupin was gone. Remus and Harry stood in the hallway in shock. When Sirius turned around, looking worried, he sighed and rubbed his hands down his face. "Fuck!"

"Where's he gone?" Remus asked.

Sirius growled. "Likely one of his underground hiding places to wait out the moon. Stubborn shit."

"Do you think he'll really leave her?" Harry asked.

Shaking his head, Sirius replied, "No. He's just . . . bloody terrified."

"Parents," Harry said, "shouldn't leave their kids unless—unless they've got to."

Remus swallowed thickly and forced himself to look away from Harry, catching the glimpse of pain and grief that crossed Sirius's face before he turned his gaze to the floor, clenching his fists tightly as the confused wolf inside of him thrashed in frustration and fear.

"I know I shouldn't have called him a coward."

"He's acting like one," Sirius said.

"All the same . . ." Harry said with a frown.

* * *

**December 24th, 1996**

The full moon was awful.

Despite Wolfsbane Potion and Padfoot, and even the stag-shaped Patronus that Harry sent into the basement to linger for awhile, the pain was overwhelming. Remus cried out in agony as his bones broke and his muscles tore, and he was whimpering on the rug in the basement of Grimmauld Place, ignoring the large dog and the Patronus stag, the wolf inside of him wondering where the other had gone, wondering why the smell of rose oil and oranges was missing.

Wondering what he would have done, had he been in Lupin's place.


	29. Chapter 29

**December 25th, 1996**

Remus woke up from the worst full moon since his arrival in 1996. When his body finally finished transforming and mending itself back together, he remained on the floor, holding himself and trying his best not to cry. Padfoot shifted back into Sirius and the man let out a heavy sigh before covering Remus's body with a blanket and then leaving the basement.

Grateful for the time alone, Remus fell asleep swiftly.

It was less than an hour after dawn that he heard the basement door open once again, the sound of smaller, softer feet coming down the stairs. "Remus?" Harry whispered. When he didn't respond, Harry set something down on the bottom step and then returned to the floor above.

The second that the door closed, Remus rolled over and focused on the bottom step, catching sight of an envelope. He nearly tripped over his own legs trying to crawl toward it, the scent of rose oil and oranges heavy. Bringing the envelope close to his face, Remus breathed in the smell over and over, letting the scent coat his lungs and penetrate his skin. When it began to fade, he thought of Lupin and Tonks and wondered how the Auror was fairing, whether or not Lupin had made it to a safe place to wait out the full moon, and what the future had in store for them.

_Dearest Remus,_

_I would wish you the happiest of Christmases, but I know the moon was last night. I sat up very late, clinging to the necklace you gave me and wishing that I was with you. I tried sending my Patronus, but I'm not sure it's strong enough for such a lengthy travel, even just across the city. I know that Sirius, Lupin, and perhaps even Harry will have been there for you, though, so I tried not to worry too much._

_I miss you._

_Mum and Dad have been peppering me with questions about you since I returned home. Mum is looking forward to meeting you soon, and Daddy is just happy to know that I'm not dating Viktor. He had quite a temper tantrum when he found out I'd gone to the Yule Ball fourth year with an older boy. I've assured him that you, however, are almost six months younger than I, and if anything, I'm perhaps seducing you. He did not find that very funny, and I assured him that you'd be adorably embarrassed were you to hear me say such a thing. He seemed to like all but the notion that I find any boy adorable._

_I miss you._

_There, I've said that twice now. Third time is the charm, and then perhaps you'll show up at my door? What a happy Christmas that would be. I know, of course, that you need your rest. Please take care of yourself and don't do too much, holiday or not._

_I miss you._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Determined, Remus got dressed, folded the letter, and stuck it in his back pocket before wincing in pain as he climbed the stairs.

Sirius was fast asleep in his room, but the smell of sausage, bacon, and potatoes wafted through the house. Remus found Harry sitting at the breakfast table, drinking down a glass of pumpkin juice while he casually read the morning's Daily Prophet.

"I need a favour."

Harry looked up, brows instantly furrowing at the sight of his friend. "Bloody hell, Remus," he said. "Er . . . sorry. You just . . . it was bad?"

Remus cringed at the look of sympathy in Harry's eyes but nodded all the same. "I need to get out of here. I need to . . ." He reached into his back pocket and withdrew Hermione's letter. "I need to see her."

Harry looked up at the door, as though Sirius might walk through it at any moment. "What about Lupin?"

Frowning, Remus ran a hand through his hair. "I can't . . . he's why I need to see her. I can't be here right now. Lupin left Tonks and maybe he's gone back, maybe not, but he left her and I . . . I can't leave Hermione. I need to know . . . I need to see her."

"Is that a . . . a wolf thing?"

Remus shrugged. "Instinct, maybe. I'm not sure."

Harry nodded. "I have her address. You could take the Knight Bus. But . . . it's still dangerous out there."

"Could I—" Remus began, knowing that the favour he was asking would have been something James wouldn't have even needed a chance to think about. But Harry wasn't James. Still . . . "Could I borrow the Cloak? Just in case?"

Harry contemplated it for less than a minute, but smiled in the end and nodded.

* * *

"Hermione, do you have to add so much—" Helen Granger began, wincing as she watched her daughter pile far more whipped cream on top of her homemade waffles than was necessary. "I swear, before you left for Hogwarts you scarcely cared for sweets. What kind of food do they serve there?"

Hermione looked up and grinned at her mother as she licked whipped cream from her fingertips. "You don't want to know."

"I'm checking your teeth before you go back," Hermione's father, Richard, said as he glanced at his daughter from over the morning paper. He smiled when Hermione rolled her eyes at him, begrudgingly nodding her head. The sight of his daughter, so very much grown up—and evidently an adult in her world—was painful, but mornings like this reminded the man of days when she'd just been a little girl.

The sound of the doorbell pulled the Granger family away from their Christmas breakfast, three heads turning to look toward the front door which was easily viewed from their small kitchen table.

Richard folded his paper and set it down on the table as he scooted his chair back to stand. "Bit early in the day for carolers, don't you think?" Hermione and Helen returned to their breakfast as Richard crossed the living room, opening the front door to find a boy standing on his porch. "Can I help you, son?"

The boy pulled a knitted hat from off of his head, revealing sandy-coloured hair that had a bit of static clinging to it from the hat. He swallowed, clearly nervous, before speaking. "Umm . . . hello, sir. I . . . my name is—"

"Remus?"

Richard turned as Hermione appeared behind him, and he tried not to be insulted when she literally shoved him out of her way. The boy on the porch sighed in relief as he whispered, "Hermione."

"Remus!" Hermione shouted and launched herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck. Remus looked up, his gaze connecting with Hermione's father for a moment. He knew he should have let her go, but the wolf inside compelled him to hold on as long as possible. When she finally broke contact, she was smiling brightly and his heart warmed. "What are you doing here? I know I said . . . but, you shouldn't have come."

Remus frowned and reached out, taking her hand. "I'm sorry, I just . . . I wanted to make sure you were—"

Richard cleared his throat. "Ahem."

Hermione's cheeks went bright pink and she turned around, biting her lower lip. "Oh, umm . . . Daddy, this is Remus Lupin. My—"

"Right," Richard said, his eyes narrowing. "The boyfriend."

Remus swallowed again and held out his free hand to the Muggle. "Hello, sir. It's an honour to meet you. I'm very sorry for interrupting your Christmas."

Richard stared at the proffered hand, and both Remus and Hermione stiffened as they waited for contact.

"What is wrong with you both?" Helen Granger said as she opened the door as wide as possible, moving her husband out of the way. "Let the poor boy inside, he looks as though he walked miles in the freezing cold! Come in, come in," she said, ushering everyone into the house and then smiling at the sight of the boy who was clinging to her daughter's hand like a lifeline. "I'm Hermione's mother. You may call me Helen, and this is Richard."

Richard huffed. "He called me  _sir_. I was enjoying that."

Helen laughed and patted Remus gently on the shoulder, taking notice at the way he briefly flinched but tried to cover it up by acting as though he were adjusting his jumper. "You ignore that great brute, d'you hear me?" she said with a kind smile as she looked the boy over. "Oh, but would you look at those eyes. Hermione said you were a handsome young man."

Remus's eyes widened, and his pale face flushed.

"Mum!"

Helen ignored her daughter. "Are you hungry? We've just sat down to breakfast, a bit late, I know. Hermione's always been the type to wake up at dawn, so excited to open presents, but she had a bit of a lie in this morning. Did you not sleep well, dear?"

Hermione frowned and reached up, touching the pendant that hung around her neck. "I'm fine, Mum."

Remus noticed her grabbing at the necklace, and he frowned. "I'm sorry."

The room went quiet and both of Hermione's parents stood awkwardly, waiting for one of the teenagers to say something. When Remus stared down at the ground, his eyes clenched tightly, Helen took a step forward, an expression of concern on her face. Before she could say or do anything, Hermione looked up and spoke. "Mum, Dad, can we . . . can we have a moment?"

When Richard scoffed, Remus looked up and turned his focus on Hermione. "Harry's . . . everyone is fine," he assured her. "I just . . . I've had a bad couple of days." He looked at her parents. "I'm sorry to intrude, I didn't—"

"Nonsense, dear," Helen said, pinching her husband on the arm until he actually yelped and moved out of the way. "Come and have a seat and tell us all about yourself." She led the group back to the table, pulling out a chair for Remus and clearing the clutter of Christmas cards in the place setting. When Remus took a seat, she smiled. "Hermione says that your father is a professor."

"Was," Hermione answered. "He was my Defence professor during third year."

"Oh yes, that's right. What does he do now?"

Remus cleared his throat, watching in shock as Helen fetched a plate and a waffle for him with enough swiftness that he briefly looked for a hidden wand until he remembered that both of Hermione's parents were Muggles. He made to object to her feeding him, not wanting to put the woman out, but the look on her face had the same determined expression that Hermione had when super focused. "He umm . . . he's a freelancer," he answered, not knowing what else to call Lupin's "job". "He's taken a bit of time off of work recently. Just got married, you see. They're . . ." He paused and felt a cold chill run up his spine. "They're expecting a baby."

Hermione spun in her chair, eyes wide and bright with excitement. "What?! Tonks is pregnant? How wonderful! How long have you . . ." Catching the dour expression on her boyfriend's face, Hermione frowned. "Remus?"

Quietly, Remus said, "He's not handling it very well."

"Oh dear. Is it because—"

"Yes."

Richard raised a brow at the way that Hermione had completely deflated. "What's wrong?"

Hermione and Remus both looked up, lips pinched tight. Eventually, Hermione sighed. "Is it . . . it's your business, Remus," she said quietly.

He sighed, too exhausted to lie and determined to be as upfront as he could with Hermione's parents, all things considered. He steeled himself for the eventual rejection by trying to remember what it had been like when Hermione, Ron, and Harry had told the rest of their classmates about his condition. "It's fine."

Hermione reached out, taking his hand once again before looking at her parents. "Professor Lupin and Remus have a . . . condition," she hesitantly said. "An illness that occurs in the Wizarding world. It's not contagious," she said very quickly, "not in the way that Muggle illnesses are. But it's looked down upon by society. They're treated quite poorly, actually." Helen frowned, and Richard seemed to soften his stance, unfolding his crossed arms as he looked at the boy. Hermione turned to Remus. "I imagine Professor Lupin is worried about passing his condition to the baby?"

Remus nodded. "That and labelling it the child of . . . well, you know."

"He must know that it's not possible," she said. "The only chance of infection is . . . well, you know. It's basically parasitic, not genetic. A person has to be infected, they aren't born with it."

Shrugging his shoulders in what felt like defeat, Remus looked up at her. "He's had a rough life. I imagine he's panicking."

"Oh, Richard drank himself silly for three days when I told him I was pregnant with Hermione," Helen said, trying to lift the mood as she leant forward and poured a glass of orange juice for Remus.

"What's the illness?" Richard asked curiously.

Hermione looked up. "I can't catch it, Daddy."

"I'm a werewolf," Remus blurted out, feeling his skin go cold as the words left his mouth, waiting for the inevitable fallout.

Richard's brows lifted nearly to his hairline. "I'm sorry . . . a what?"

"Are you . . . that's not possible," Helen said, looking as though she were trying not to laugh. "Granted, my daughter is a witch and—"

"I was bitten as a child, so was . . . so was my father," Remus said, refusing to meet either of their gazes as his heart rate began to speed up in panic. "But I've never . . . I've never hurt anyone," he promised as he finally drew his focus to Hermione's parents, green eyes wet.

Hermione squeezed his hand. "Lycanthropy is real," she told them. "Werewolves are infected individuals in society who are considered dark and dangerous, because the Ministry is full of ridiculous prejudice and are severely lacking information," she said, her words laced with angry venom. "Remus takes a potion for his condition. It keeps him safe. But some people think that he's—"

"A monster."

Hermione turned and scowled at her boyfriend. "Stop that!"

Helen had her hand covering her open mouth, her eyes wide as she stared at the boy, taking note of the scars on the revealed bits of his body. Richard, on the other hand, was staring in confusion and disbelief. "So you umm . . . turn into . . ."

"Yes, sir."

"Full moon, then? Just like in the movies?"

Helen gasped in understanding. "Oh! Last night was a full moon."

Humiliated, Remus looked down and released Hermione's hand, pushing his chair back to stand. "I-I'm sorry."

Helen stood as well and walked around the table to put a hand on his shoulder. "For what, dear?"

Confused, Remus shook his head. "I don't . . ."

Taking notice of the dark circles under his eyes, Helen sighed. "My goodness. You poor thing. You look positively exhausted." She leaned forward and wrapped the boy in a warm embrace, feeling him stiffen at the contact, at first, until he relaxed a bit, obviously too tired to fight back, but still awkward enough not to return the embrace.

"Do you need to contact your father?" Richard asked.

Remus shook his head, looking at the man as Helen released him. "I don't know where he is. I don't . . . I don't live with him. I'm staying with my . . . well,  _uncle_ , I suppose."

"He lives with Harry's godfather," Hermione told her parents.

"I see. Are they expecting you home soon?" Helen asked.

"No, ma'am."

"Hermione, dear. Why don't you show your young man to the guest room," Helen suggested, ignoring her husband as his mouth opened to protest. When Remus did the same, she cut the boy off as well. "Don't argue now. You've had a terrible week, it appears, and I know nothing about this lycanthropy business, but you're clearly not well and need a good rest. Hermione will send a letter to your uncle so that he won't worry." She turned and gestured to a small owl that was perched in a cage in the corner of the room, a brown barn that looked to be borrowed from Hogwarts. Remus remembered that Lily used to do the same thing since she didn't have an owl of her own. "If you haven't any plans, you're welcome to join us for Christmas dinner."

Overwhelmed by their hospitality, Remus tried to argue, but couldn't bring himself to deny the affections of a family. "I . . . thank you. You're . . . people in  _our_ world aren't often as kind to me."

Richard let out a short laugh. "Well, how about that? We've finally done something better than magic."

* * *

Hermione took Remus's hand and walked him up the stairs toward the guest room. "Sorry if it still smells like perfume. My grandmother was the last to stay here. Mum washed the sheets and all, but her perfume lingers on the drapes a bit." Remus only nodded as he was directed inside the room, limbs hanging loosely at his sides. "What happened? I know you're leaving out details."

He sighed as he sat down on the bed, scrubbing his hands down his face. "I didn't mean to say as much as I did. I'm so sorry to just show up here and—"

"Remus, you're supposed to be resting. You're clearly exhausted." Hermione frowned and sat down beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder and nuzzling into the fabric of his jumper until he leant his cheek against the top of her hair.

"She's pregnant and he just left her, Hermione," he whispered. "The worst part is that a bit of me understood. I never even  _thought_ that I could have a halfway normal relationship, let alone what he has. Marriage and now a child? And you're right, it can't pass to the baby, but . . . I'm angry at him and I feel sorry for him. He was alone all those years."

She frowned and nodded. "He must be terrified," she said sadly. "It's one thing to go into a war thinking that you could lose your friends all over again, but now he has a wife and a child. Spending years being told you're not good enough for our world . . . that's clearly taken a toll."

"He thinks that Tonks and the baby will be outcasts because of him."

"He's lucky that Tonks doesn't care."

Remus groaned. "I feel awful. I'm angry, and sad, and worried . . . but seeing him like that, Hermione . . . I feel very selfish to say that I'm glad I was pulled out of my time and thrust into this one." He took her hand and laced their fingers together. "I don't want his life. I don't want all those years alone. I don't want to grow up and be so scared of the future."

She looked up and brought her lips to meet his in a soft, chaste kiss. "I'm so very glad you won't be alone," she whispered words of promise.

Remus turned his body toward hers and placed his hands on her face, holding her gently as he stared into her eyes pleadingly. "Hermione, you know I would never leave you if . . . I mean . . . I mean to say that—"

"I know," she said with an affectionate smile. "You're a good man, Remus Lupin.  _Both_ of you are. Maybe you'll just have to remind the other one."

He sighed and kissed her forehead. "I can't believe I just showed up like this."

She giggled. "To be fair, I technically did invite you."

"I'm so embarrassed." He shook his head. "Maybe I should go."

"Don't bother," Hermione said as she stood up and adjusted her shirt that had bunched up when she'd sat down. The last thing she needed was walking back downstairs looking even slightly rumpled. "I know my mother. Don't say a word of this to anyone, but she's quite a bit like Mrs Weasley. Except my mum only ever had  _me_ to dote on. I'm fairly certain she would have tried to adopt Harry over the years if given the chance," she said with a small laugh and smiled brightly when Remus chuckled. "I would bet you ten Galleons that she's downstairs right now telling my dad that you'll be staying with us for the rest of the hols or until your family wants you home."

Remus yawned but still tried to protest. "I didn't . . . I don't want to impose or—"

Hermione smiled and gave him a gentle shove until he fell back onto the pillows behind him. She bent forward, kissing his cheek. "Sleep."

When he woke hours later, the window outside showed a setting sun and Remus sighed at the sight of it. He turned over on the bed and caught sight of a phial on the bedside table labelled "Pain Potion" in Hermione's tight script. He smiled and took the potion immediately, feeling it settle into his muscles with ease. There was an envelope beneath it and, after corking and setting the phial down, Remus snatched it up.

_Mini-Moony,_

_Running away from home is my thing. That being said, Harry told me where you ran off to about ten minutes before I was set to call in the Order and put together a damn task force to find your sorry arse. A note would have been nice, you know. I get it, though. I do._

_Big Moony sent word that he's safe and made it through the full moon pretty intact. Didn't say much else. You're welcome to come home whenever you want, though, Hermione says her mother seems pretty intent that you stay. I think it'll be good for you. Don't do anything I wouldn't do._

_Happy Christmas, mate._

_Padfoot_

He smiled at his friend's near perfect penmanship, a sign of his high-class upbringing that he couldn't get rid of no matter how much he tried. Putting the letter back in its envelope, Remus stood up and made his way out of the room, following sounds that led him downstairs to where Hermione and her parents were situated around a television set, watching Christmas movies.

He smiled at the sight of the small family, snuggled up on the couch, Hermione squished between her parents. All of them wore soft-looking pyjamas. "There's a package for you under the tree," Hermione said, drawing his attention quickly, a mischievous smirk on her face.

Raising a confused brow, Remus looked at the tree and, indeed, there was a red wrapped gift with his name on it. "I . . . I don't—"

"It's tradition," Hermione said with a smile. "We get new pyjamas each year and then we put them on and sit around watching movies all night. Go and get changed."

Swallowing down emotions as he picked up the gift, Remus looked up, ready to object again only to find himself being stared at by both Hermione and her mother with expectant expressions on their faces, as though they were daring him to refuse the present. Smiling awkwardly, he cast a look at Richard, who was smirking into a glass of eggnog and staring at the television, though he seemed much more amused by the scene in his living room.

Nodding, Remus went back upstairs, rejoining the Grangers minutes later dressed in soft, blue flannel. Helen and Richard were cuddled together on the loveseat near the window, leaving a large space on the sofa next to Hermione open. She smiled up at him and patted the seat, and then grabbed his arm and put it around her shoulders when he sat down.

Nervously, Remus looked at Hermione's parents who were much too busy paying attention to the movie, and he slowly relaxed into the cushion behind him, leaning his head to the side until Hermione's curls tickled his nose. Instead of pulling away, he breathed deep and let the smell of oranges and rose oil settle into his bones.


	30. Chapter 30

**December 29th, 1996**

The time spent with the Grangers did Remus a lot of good. His health returned faster than normal with Hermione always nearby and Helen Granger eager to fill him up with healthy foods—not that he didn't appreciate the way that Mrs Weasley would refill his plate and then tut at how skinny he was. Richard Granger was another creature altogether, and the man had swiftly taken Remus under his wing, usually very literally, directing the young werewolf in the opposite direction of wherever Hermione happened to be. The first few times it had happened, Remus winced and waited to be asked to leave, but soon he discovered that Richard was a prankster himself, and though he did have genuine concern for his only daughter, he seemed to really enjoy overplaying the role of protective father, much to Helen and Hermione's obvious annoyance.

In that short space between Christmas and the approaching new year, Remus fell into a bit of a routine with the Granger family. He would wake every morning and exit the guest room to stumble into the bathroom where he would find Hermione already there, smiling at him with a Muggle toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. The pair would brush their teeth in silence and take turns spitting into the sink. He'd then open the door for her and grin stupidly when she would stand on the tips of her toes to brush her spearmint flavoured lips across his mouth.

Breakfast would be served, and he would engage Hermione's father in conversation over whatever the man was reading in the Muggle paper, while Hermione would attempt to read at the table, a book propped up with a wandless Sticking Charm so that she could revise and eat breakfast at the same time without needing to use her hands to hold the textbook. Helen would clear the table and see Richard off to work, or some days it would be Helen leaving to go to their shared dentistry practice, leaving her husband home to look after the teenagers.

Regardless of which parent was left behind, Remus and Hermione spent most of their time revising, getting ahead on reading for Arithmancy, and finishing Charms essays. However, in the brief moments they were left alone, Hermione would throw down her books and crawl into Remus's lap, straddling his thighs, and kissing him as though they'd been apart for weeks instead of separated by half a foot on the sofa or floor. Remus's hands would drift on their own, long since disconnected with his brain—which turned fuzzy anytime Hermione slipped her tongue into his mouth. He would kiss along her jaw and gently drag his teeth against her shoulder on instinct, whispering how much he loved her.

His lupine hearing would eventually pick up on footsteps in the hallway, and he would practically throw Hermione from his lap before her parent approached. Either Richard or Helen would walk into the room to find Remus studiously glaring at a textbook on his lap while Hermione attempted to stifle giggles as she made notations on a length of parchment.

Remus was finding Christmas holidays . . . blissful.

"Watch your step," Richard said, leading Remus into the garage that he'd been told was off limits to anyone who gave a damn about keeping their fingers connected to their hands. When the man had asked Remus to join him, the young werewolf had swallowed anxious nerves, completely unaware of Hermione kissing his cheek and walking back upstairs to shower and dress, leaving him to the mercy of her father and whatever he kept in the garage.

Now, however, Remus understood why Richard had been so defensive.

The car in front of him was beyond beautiful. It was blue and white and even the tires appeared to shine. Remus was fairly certain that Sirius would cry were he to ever set eyes on the machine.

"Wow."

Richard grinned proudly. "You like her? Austin-Heely—"

"3000," Remus finished, letting his gaze rake over the automobile. "My uh . . . my grandfather had one. He was a Muggle. We didn't visit often because of . . . because I was always sick, but . . . he took me to the ice cream shop in it."

Richard snorted. "Your grandfather let you have ice cream in his car?"

Remus smirked, doing his best to hide the fact that his emotions were close to the surface as he thought of his family, his  _actual_  family and not the fake story that he'd been forced to tell. "I wasn't allowed to tell anyone. His was green though. Hideous colour, really. Looked like slime."

Grinning, Richard pushed open the hood and waved Remus over. "Come have a look under the bonnet. You like cars?"

"Never had one of our own, to be honest," Remus replied, glancing at the engine that looked as though it didn't even have oil in it, it was so clean. "Only ever saw them when we went to town or . . . or visiting family. My best friend growing up loved motorbikes. Everyone I know prefers brooms."

Richard shook his head. "I don't get that," he said, his face turning just a touch pale. "Don't tell anyone, but I've always had a tiny little fear of heights myself."

"Hermione doesn't like them either," Remus said with an affectionate smile.

"Rightly so," Richard said, scoffing. "I hear her complaining about the sorts of injuries her friends get up to playing that Quidditch. I say stay on the ground with a good football. And if you miss getting your head knocked in, advance to Rugby. You play sports, Remus?"

"Never could." Remus frowned and subconsciously picked at one of the scars on his chest. "Can't really stick to a schedule of sorts when you get sick once a month."

"The ladies do," Richard blurted out and then, eyes wide, he turned and looked at Remus, slightly flustered. "Er . . . don't tell them I said that."

Remus laughed. "Secret's safe with me, sir."

"So you're book smart then?" Richard asked as he reached out, fiddling with bolts and wires and tubes and other bits of machinery that Remus couldn't possibly even guess to understand by mere observation. "Make good grades?"

"Very good. I pride myself on it, actually."

"I can see how the pair of your are good together then," Richard said and then a tense silence settled between them. Remus could pick up on the fact that Richard's heart rate had changed slightly. "She loves you." Eyes wide, Remus's mouth fell open and he turned his head to hide the colour in his cheeks. "Don't look away from me like you're ashamed of it," Richard demanded, drawing Remus's gaze back to him. "Are you ashamed that my girl loves you?"

He shook his head. "No, sir."

"Then you hold your head up. Honour her that way. If she thinks you're good enough, then you bloody well act like it."

Nodding, Remus wondered if his own father would have given him such advice. Unlikely. His parents had been so concerned over Remus's condition that they often overlooked anything about him that didn't surround the fact that he was also a werewolf. The first time he'd ever asked his father about girls, he'd sent the man into a panic, thinking that Remus was trying to say that he'd hurt some girl at Hogwarts. It was why he got most of his advice from Sirius, poor advice that it was. "I . . . sir . . . Mr Granger, your daughter is . . . I mean to say—"

Richard sighed and forced a smile. "You love her as well," he said resignedly. "I figured as much. She doesn't tell us everything. We know she doesn't." The man frowned, concern written on his face. "I can see it in her eyes . . . something . . . she's grown up too fast."

Remus looked down as he thought of Sirius and Harry. "That happens in our world . . . a lot," he whispered.

"You'll look after her?" Richard asked, but Remus felt that it wasn't a question. "I know I don't seem scary, being Muggle and all, but she's my only daughter and—"

"I would die for her," Remus said as quickly as his mouth would allow.

Richard stared at him for a long time in silence, looking right in his eyes as though he were waiting for Remus to break. When he didn't, Richard smiled but then laughed softly. "Bloody teenagers. You're a good lad, Remus," he said and clapped him on the shoulder. "Bit dramatic there, but—"

"Remus?" Helen called from the open door of the garage. "Remus, your father's here to see you."

Eyes wide, Remus felt his skin go cold until he remembered that Lupin was supposed to be his father, and then his heart sunk. He didn't want to see Lupin. Not yet. "Oh . . . umm . . . okay." Helen stepped back into the house, and Remus turned to accept a cloth towel held out by Richard to wipe the non-existent engine oil from his hands.

When he entered the Granger's living room, he frowned at the sight of Lupin sitting on the sofa across from Helen, a cup of tea in his hands.

"He's a sweet boy," Helen was quietly saying, "and Hermione's just smitten with him."

"She's a bright witch, your daughter," Lupin said with a proud smile. "She's been quite the influence on him. I'm very happy for the pair of them. I think they're a smart match." He turned and acknowledged the younger wolf. "Hello, Remus."

"Hi."

Helen, feeling the tension, cleared her throat and stood. "I'll just leave you two to it. If you need anything, I'll be upstairs redirecting Hermione when she gets out of the shower; give you your privacy."

Lupin stood, placing his cup on a saucer on the table to his side before taking the woman's hand in gratitude. "Thank you, Helen. It was a pleasure seeing you."

"You as well."

The moment that she reached the very top step and was out of hearing distance, Remus growled at his older self. "Why are you here?"

Lupin turned and sighed. "I was worried."

"I'm fine. Not your real son, if you've forgotten," Remus snapped. "Maybe you should go and take care of your  _actual_ child."

Lupin winced as though he'd been struck and it was then that Remus noticed how poorly the man looked. As stressed and anxious as he'd been the day before the full moon, he looked defeated and demolished now, as though he'd been run over by life. "I deserve that. I . . . I went back to Tonks," he quietly informed the boy. "Apologised, profusely. She's more understanding than I deserve. But you know why I did it."

Remus nodded. "I know."

"And you came here."

"I had to . . ."

"Instinct." Lupin nodded. "I know. I fought like hell against mine," he said shamefully.

"You look like the wolf took it out on you. Where did you end up?"

"An old cave outside of Hogsmeade. Sirius stayed there a bit a year or so back and . . . proper wards cast, it makes a halfway decent cage. Lots of sharp edges, though," Lupin said and then rubbed at the left side of his ribcage. Remus imagined it was a variety of sickening colours even days later. "Hermione's parents . . . they know?"

Remus nodded. "They know. Muggles are . . . they're nice."

Lupin smiled. "I'm glad. Listen, Sirius told me that you were invited to stay for the rest of the holiday, but if you change your mind . . . there's a place for you at our house. Tonks and mine, the umm . . . we've moved into the old cottage."

Immediately, Remus thought about the cottage, his home. He'd only lived in it since first attending Hogwarts, as they'd moved quite a bit due to his condition in the years before he started school, eventually settling in Yorkshire just a few months before Albus Dumbledore came knocking. He could still smell the vanilla perfume that his mother wore, permeating the pillows of his parents bedroom where he was allowed to rest when the full moon fell on holidays since his own bed was too small for his growth spurts and Hope Lupin liked to spoil her only child when she could, even if that just meant a larger bed and a homemade quilt.

The thought of going back to the cottage and not smelling vanilla . . . Remus shook his head. "Thanks. Really. I just . . . I don't want to see it. Not yet. It's too hard to think that Mum and Dad will be inside, waiting for me to walk through the door when I know that they died. It's hard to think that I don't have . . ." He let out a heavy sigh of frustration that he might have been holding since the night he first appeared in Grimmauld Place. "I'm stuck in this weird place where I'm supposed to pretend that you're my dad, and sometimes you're so bloody different from me that I get it. It feels like it a bit. You remind me of him, of Dad."

Lupin frowned in immediate understanding. His father—their father—was a man who felt that he destroyed their family, and in a way he had, though the son had never blamed the father. It was, however, Lyall Lupin's harsh words that made Fenrir Greyback seek vengeance, and from the moment that Remus had been bitten and infected, Lyall had distanced himself greatly, showing little emotion other than guilt on his face at any given time. "He was a troubled man," Lupin finally whispered.

"So are you."

"So am I."

Remus bit his lip and then fought himself for a few moments before blurting out, "I don't want to be you."

Looking up at the boy, Lupin couldn't help but smile sadly. "I don't want that for you either. It's why I wanted you to be kept out of the war. Out of . . . of everything. I'm sorry I left you during the moon."

"Just . . . don't leave her again," Remus pleaded, caring little for himself. He had friends, he still had Sirius, and he had Hermione. From the looks of things, Lupin only had Sirius and Tonks, keeping all others at arm's length. "We weren't supposed to have this. We're lucky . . . Tonks and Hermione are . . . don't leave her again."

Running the pad of his thumb over his wedding band, the older werewolf nodded. "She's my wife. And . . . and the mother of my . . . my child."

Catching the way that Lupin fought to say the word, but still smiled when he did, Remus grinned. "You going to name it Remus?"

"Ha!" Lupin's stiff facade broke and he ran a more relaxed hand through greying hair. "I think there's enough Remus Lupins in the world as it is, don't you? Maybe a middle name. Dora wants Edward for a boy, after her father. If it's a girl . . . I suggested Hope . . . for Mum."

* * *

Hermione ran a thick toothed comb through her curls, hissing and holding back a swear when she hit a tangle and yanked a few strands from her hair. She sighed, pulling them from the mess, tossing the torn locks into the sink and thinking that she could supply the entire Wizarding world with Hermione Grangers if they were so inclined to Polyjuice themselves into her likeness.

"Handsome man, that professor of yours," Helen said, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet and smiling up at her daughter.

"Ouch!" Hermione yelped. "Who?"

"Remus's father."

She blinked and looked at herself in the mirror, cursing the way her cheeks pinked, though it certainly wasn't Professor Lupin that brought about the colour, instead her last conversation with Tonks. "Oh. I umm . . . I suppose?"

"Remus looks quite like him," Helen said, a hint of teasing in her voice.

Hermione held herself back from laughing. If it had been difficult to tell her parents about Remus being a werewolf, there was no way possible to begin to describe the situation of her current boyfriend being the younger version of her former professor. Not that she was allowed to tell the secret, nor would she. "Mum . . . Professor Lupin was my teacher. Please don't remind me of how weird this already is."

Helen laughed sweetly. "I'm just saying . . ." She stood up, pulling the comb from Hermione's hand and smiling when the young witch sighed in defeat. She gently raked through Hermione's hair, shaking her head when she stumbled upon a wet knot and worked it out calmly, unlike her daughter who always tore through it in a rush. "Your grandfather was quite handsome as well. It was nice to look into the future and see what your father would look like as he aged." Catching Hermione's horrified expression in the reflection, Helen gently tapped her daughter on the head with the comb reproachfully with a smirk. "Don't look at me like that. I was young once too, you know. I know how girls your age think."

Hermione struggled not to roll her eyes. She thought about war and Death Eaters and whether or not the security wards she cast on the house since Remus's arrival would be strong enough to repel Voldemort, just in case. "They don't think about their boyfriend's father," she said. "Besides, Remus is . . . different. He's . . . mine," she added quietly, but her tone was firm and possessive.

Helen beamed affectionately at her daughter's reflecting, their gazes meeting in the mirror. "He's smitten with you. Sweet boy."

Hermione swallowed hard and then softly admitted, "I love him."

Finishing the braid and tying it off with a small, thick elastic, Helen squeezed her daughter's shoulders. "I can see that. And you both . . ." she began to say but stopped and then cleared her throat. "You're being . . . oh, for heaven's sake you're an adult in your world, so I won't pretend to imagine that you're still . . . a virgin. I just want to make sure that—"

Hermione's eyes widened and she spun around to face her mother. "I am!" she insisted.

"I'm not saying that it's a bad thing if you have had—"

"I haven't!"

"Now, I've not accused you of anything and I won't be upset if—"

"Mum! Remus and I haven't . . . we're not . . . not yet."

Helen searched Hermione's eyes carefully before nodding. "Do you need . . .  _want_ to talk about it?"

"I think I'm okay," Hermione said, laughing and sighing at the same time. "Remus is respectful," she assured her mother.

Helen snorted indelicately and muttered under her breath. "Yet."

Hermione blushed and looked down with a bashful smile. "Yet."

* * *

**December 30th, 1996**

The owl came late in the afternoon and both Hermione and Remus stole away upstairs while Richard was distracted, speaking with an old business partner on the telephone while Helen busied herself in the kitchen, finishing dinner. Hedwig had dropped off the letter and then nipped at Hermione's fingers when she didn't immediately open it up. Remus took notice and suggested that maybe Harry had given his familiar instructions to make sure that Hermione read the letter as soon as possible. When he'd voiced his thoughts aloud, only then did Hedwig take flight.

Upstairs, Remus stared at the folded up page of the Daily Prophet in his hands while Hermione read Harry's letter aloud.

" _There was an Order meeting here last night and I used one of Fred and George's Extendable Ears to listen in. I don't know if you get the_ Prophet  _delivered to your house, so I've sent you a copy,"_  Hermione read, looking up and frowning at the expression on Remus's face as he turned the paper around to show her the image of several mugshots, most notably Bellatrix Lestrange, screaming from their photographs. " _They've all escaped," she continued, "and they killed six Muggles and two Muggle-borns."_

"Fuck," Remus blurted out in horror, turning back to the article in the paper that did not describe those events. "This only says that there was a security issue in Azkaban," he said. "Not that . . . bloody hell."

" _Dumbledore told the Order not to tell us, but Luna's_  . . . oh gods!" Hermione gasped. "Luna's father was attacked in Diagon Alley, and they were whispering that the Lestrange brothers' magical signatures were registered outside of Neville's house, but the blood wards kept them out or something. I'm worried that they're coming after us, and I just needed to make sure you were okay."

Hermione threw down the letter and stood up, reaching for her wand which she had left sitting on the nightstand next to her bed. She flicked it several times, waving it in intricate patterns while muttering quietly under her breath security incantations that Remus recalled reading over her shoulder earlier in the year when they'd gone to the library to revise for their Arithmancy class.

While Hermione tested the wards surrounding her home, Remus picked up the letter and read aloud. " _I don't know what to do, Hermione. I told Sirius, but he said that they'd take care of everything and not to worry about it."_

Hermione scoffed after finishing her series of charms. "Well . . . at least he's  _talking_ about his concerns instead of keeping them all bottled up like he normally does."

"What are we going to do?" Remus asked her. "If Sirius says not to worry—"

"Didn't you basically trick Sirius into staying inside Grimmauld Place so he wouldn't run off and get himself killed?" she asked him, and Remus cringed at the memory of Sirius ready to ambush the Ministry the moment he found out Harry had gone there. "What if . . . Remus what if they come after my parents?"

He stood up and pulled her into his arms. "Doesn't the Order have wards set up for you? In addition to the ones that you've cast yourself?"

She pressed her face against his chest and inhaled deeply. "Not strong ones. You were able to get here just by the Knight Bus. They might have made them Death Eater specific, but we know that not everyone who follows Voldemort is branded with the Dark Mark. What if he Imperiuses someone else to come here and . . . and . . ."

Remus kissed the top of her head and whispered, "I think . . . I think you should tell them."

She pulled away from him quickly and stared up with wide eyes. "They'll make me leave Hogwarts. Remus, when I told them about my first year and everything that had happened, they panicked. They're Muggles. They're not emotionally equipped to handle the seriousness of things that happen in our world. They don't understand what we're up against!"

He placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing lightly in the hopes of calming her down before she had an accidental outburst of magic and set the curtains on fire. "You've reached your majority and you're an adult, Hermione. They can't stop you from going back to Hogwarts."

She angrily wiped at her eyes as they grew wet, fighting the desperate urge to cry. "What do I do? Just leave them behind? What if they . . . I didn't want to have to do this," she said very quietly.

Remus frowned. "Do what? Hermione . . ." He paused and inhaled sharply recalling something she'd mentioned earlier that summer. "Hermione, when we first met . . . and everyone was trying to get you to tell your parents about what happened in the Department of Mysteries, you said that you would file to have them Memory Charmed."

She waved her wand over a space in the corner where a Disillusioned box sat. He watched closely as she stepped forward, opening it up to reveal dozens of papers, documents, passports, and though he wasn't well versed in Muggle money, what appeared to be quite a sum stashed away as well. "I've . . . I've been studying on how to do it myself for the last two years," she whispered, holding two aeroplane tickets out to him, vouchers really, since they didn't have specific dates. "Ever since Voldemort returned. No . . . ever since the Quidditch World Cup when the Death Eaters attacked those Muggles. I have to send them away. Remus, I don't know what else to do."

He thought about his own parents and everything they'd suffered because of him, because of what he was. They'd been ostracised from Wizarding society just as much as he'd been. Chased from home to home, always trying to keep his secret. His father had lost his job and his mother, a Muggle, was unable to find work in the Wizarding world and struggled to make ends meet from the few jobs she was able to pick up in the Muggle world, considering how often they were forced to move and how she'd insist on being with Remus following each full moon whenever he was home. He thought about what he'd be willing to do to spare them that pain, and he understood where Hermione's heart was.

"Can you ask them to just leave?"

She burst into tears and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I don't think I can do this."

"I'm here," he whispered into her hair, holding her tight against him. "I'm not going anywhere, Hermione. You don't have to do it alone."

* * *

They descended the stairs an hour later and Hermione slipped a separate packed bag into a closet at the foot of the stairs before quietly closing it. Her tears had all dried up, and she'd cast charms to glamour the red away from her eyes. She looked perfectly normal, but Remus could still see the difference in her.

"There you are!" Helen said, a bright smile on her face.

Richard turned from his seat in the living room and looked over his shoulder. "I was seconds from coming up and checking on you."

Hermione blushed. "Daddy," she said and then cleared her throat. "We were . . . we were just talking."

He snorted. "Your mother and I used to talk too."

Helen swatted her husband with the kitchen towel she had in hand. "Are you hungry?" she asked, turning back to the teenagers. "I've made roast lamb."

Hermione reached for Remus's hand. "Mum, Dad . . . we umm . . . I need to tell you something."

Richard's eyes widened and his face paled. "Are you pregnant?!"

"WHAT?! No!" Hermione shouted. "Merlin . . . Jesus . . . no! I . . . here," she said, flustered, and thrust out the copy of the  _Daily Prophet_  that Harry had sent her.

After several minutes of reading the article, Richard and Helen looked up at their daughter. "What's . . . what's a Death Eater?"

Ashamed of keeping secrets for so long, Hermione sat down across from her parents at the dinner table, though no one appeared hungry and everyone seemed content to let the lamb grow cold as Hermione allowed Remus to summarise the Wizarding wars, Voldemort, and their part in the conflict. She interjected from time to time when information between the missing decades was needed, but for the most part, just waited for the inevitable explosion.

"A war? Like a real, genuine war?" Helen asked, twisting the towel in her hands. "This man, this . . . Voldemort. He sounds like Hitler."

"He is like Hitler," Hermione explained. "He wants people like me dead. People like you dead. People like Remus and his family and the Weasleys and anyone who opposes him, and most especially, Harry."

"Why Harry?"

Remus sighed. "Supposedly, Harry's the only person who can defeat him."

"This is preposterous," Richard declared, throwing the  _Daily Prophet_  onto the table in anger. "This sounds like some . . . story out of a book!"

"Sir, I'm a werewolf," Remus said, raising a brow at the man. "We're not lying to you. This is real, and it's very serious."

"How long has . . ." Helen began until she understood perfectly. "Hermione, why haven't you said anything?"

Hermione frowned. "Because after my first year, you tried to keep me from going back to Hogwarts."

"You lied to us," Richard said with a disapproving scowl.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Hermione whispered, her voice small and her eyes cast downward in shame.

"What about the authorities? You have . . . what are they called? Aurors." Helen turned her attention to Remus since both Richard and Hermione had halted the conversation. "What about them? And your government. What are they doing about this?"

"We think . . . er . . . the people that are opposing Voldemort think that he's trying to, or already has, infiltrated the government," Remus tried to explain. "The Aurors don't stand much of a chance on their own."

"Doesn't  _your world_ ," Richard interrupted angrily, his words laced with bitterness, "have some sort of . . . military?"

Hermione scoffed lightly and shook her head, whispering "Dumbledore's Army" under her breath.

"What?"

"Nothing. No, we don't," she told her parents. "People didn't even believe that he was back until last summer when he showed up in the Ministry of Magic and tried to kill Harry."

Raising a questioning and suspicious brow, Richard levelled his gaze at his daughter. "Last summer? When you were sick?" he asked and then stood up, the colour drained from his face. The offensive stance triggered something inside of Remus and though he knew that the man wouldn't dare hurt his own daughter, the wolf inside of him was scratching somewhere near the base of his spine, telling him to protect. "Hermione, what happened to you?" Richard demanded.

She swallowed nervously. "Daddy—"

"What happened to you?"

She shook her head, tears springing to her eyes once again. "You have to leave. They're targeting Muggles and Muggle-borns, and I think that they're going to come after you because I'm so close to Harry. Because I'm a threat, or at least, they think I am. You have to go away. Go on vacation. Go visit somewhere you've never been or—"

"We're not going anywhere. And . . . and I don't think you should go back to—"

Hermione stood, eyes wide as her father did exactly what she knew he would do. Instinctively, Remus stood with her, reaching a hand out, whether to take hers in solidarity or perhaps stop her from angrily doing something she might regret, he wasn't sure.

"Let's everyone calm down," Helen instructed, the only person around the table still in her seat. "There's a week before Hermione returns to Hogwarts, and we've time to discuss this as a family. No, Remus," the woman said, looking up at the suddenly awkward expression on Remus's face, "I didn't mean that . . . you're still welcome here."

"We're not leaving," Richard declared, glaring across the table at his stubborn daughter, he pointed at her and then tapped that same finger on the table as if he needed to physically describe his intention of staying put. "You're not going back there, and that's final. I won't have my only daughter walk into a war. You're a child. It's too . . . I won't have it."

Hermione stared at her parents for a long time before she turned and looked at Remus, whose green eyes had given way to a protective amber in the wake of the yelling. He frowned, knowing what she was thinking, and his heart broke for her.

They ate in silence though every few moments Richard or Helen would look up and offer small words of love to their daughter when they saw that she was still crying, obviously distraught. Eventually, Helen stood to clear the plates, gesturing for Richard to follow her.

"Can you hear them?" Hermione whispered.

Remus nodded. He could hear every word. Though Helen was quieter about her opinions, she shared Richard's point of view exactly, and the two conspired in the kitchen, trying to figure out a way to get Hermione out of the Wizarding world entirely. Something that, as Muggles, they couldn't understand was simply impossible. "I'm so sorry," Remus said.

"Grab the bag."

He stood up and walked over to her, noticing that she already had her wand in her hand and was rubbing it with the pad of her thumb in a nervous pattern. "Are you certain?" he asked. "Hermione . . . I'll support you no matter what—"

Her voice broke when she said, "Please?"

He sighed heavily and leant down to kiss her forehead. "I love you."

She nodded, silently reciprocating the affection. Remus turned and walked away, opening the cupboard where they'd stashed the small bag. He worked quickly, removing photographs from the walls and over the mantle, and snatching albums that Helen had spent hours showing him just days before. He slipped them all into the bag, taking only a moment to marvel at the Undetectable Extension Charm that Hermione had cast earlier when they had done the same thing to the rooms upstairs before casting strong Disillusionment and Muggle-Repelling Charms on Hermione's bedroom door.

He stood by the front door, his own wand in hand, ready to call for the Knight Bus. He could hear Hermione's parents inside the kitchen saying how much they loved her, and that they were just worried and would do anything to protect her and didn't she know that?

"I know," she said quietly. "I would . . . I would do the same for you. I'm sorry."

_Obliviate_.


	31. Chapter 31

**December 31st, 1996**

Muggle luggage in hand, Hermione and Remus checked into a hotel in central London. They'd lingered around the Granger house, Disillusioned, while the newly minted Monica and Wendell Wilkins—freshly obliviated Richard and Helen Granger—packed for their trip. A few Compulsion Charms had them closing their practice with a few quick phone calls, and Hermione retched in the backyard, admitting that the supposedly light magic felt much too like what she assumed casting the Imperius Curse would feel like. When her parents had gone to bed, setting an alarm for early morning in order to catch their last minute flight, Hermione and Remus took turns staying awake and standing guard. In the morning, they phoned for a cab to pick them up one street over, and then followed the Grangers to Heathrow Airport, lingering long enough to make sure that they actually got on the plane.

Hermione remained collected and numb until their driver dropped them off at the hotel. Remus was shocked to see how quickly they were able to get a room considering it was the holiday season, but money talked, and Hermione paid cash to get in. The woman at the front desk looked at them both with an expression of pity. Remus, sickly and covered in scars, and Hermione looking as though she were ready to burst into tears at any moment.

"Are the pair of you all right?" the woman whispered to Remus. "Do I need to ring the police?"

He scratched at one of his scars when he caught her staring and sighed. "No, thank you. We just . . . we're good here. It's been a rough week," he said, accepting the key to their room and the woman's quiet look of sympathy.

Remus carried their things up to the room and took three attempts at scanning the Muggle card to open the door. He sighed in frustration and went for a fourth try before Hermione silently snatched it from his fingers, slid the card through, and "magically" a little light flashed green and the door opened after a small clicking sound.

"Do you want to sleep first?" he asked, setting their luggage in the open closet nearest the door, his eyes full of concern. "Or maybe have a bath?"

She looked lost, and that frightened him, though he'd be damned if he said so aloud. Remus had promised Richard that he'd keep Hermione safe, look after her and protect her, and she certainly needed taking care of right then. When she shrugged, Remus led her into the bathroom and unbraided her hair for her. He tugged on the tap to the bath and ran it until the water was hot, stoppering the bottom with a small plug attached to the nozzle with a little chain.

"I'll be right outside the door," he promised, kissing her cheek.

Remus listened closely, waiting until he heard the sound of her stepping into the water, and then waiting longer to make sure she didn't need anything from him before he opened one of the suitcases they brought with them, magically extended with a charm that kept all their belongings inside, including a small purple beaded bag that Hermione had packed with most of their essentials, just in case. One of the things in the bag was a small owl cage containing the Hogwarts barn owl that previously sat in the Granger's home. He'd been worried that the travel would be awkward, but the bird looked only mildly annoyed that it had been woken up from a long nap.

Remus snatched some paper from a pad of hotel stationary on the nearby dresser, where it had been sitting between the telephone and a menu for room service. Tearing off the hotel's logo, he scrawled a note:

_Harry,_

_If suspicions are aroused for any reason, please let Sirius and Lupin know that Hermione and I are fine. After talking with her parents, they agreed_ —"Damn," he said with a sigh— _to go into hiding for a while. We arranged everything as quickly as possible, and hopefully, they'll be settling in with acquaintances in America very soon. Hermione's a bit torn up about it and doesn't want anyone else to know, just in case. We'll meet you at King's Cross in a few days._

_Remus_

He glanced over the note, his gaze lingering on "America" for a few extra moments. It wasn't though they didn't trust Harry, of course, but with Death Eaters freshly escaped from Azkaban, there was no telling whether or not the owl could be intercepted. If anyone did go looking for Richard and Helen Granger, they'd end up on the wrong side of the world looking for the wrong names entirely. After rolling up the paper and handing it to the little owl, Remus walked to the balcony door, glad that they'd requested a room with one, and looked at the little bird. "Head on back to Hogwarts when you're done," he said. "You'll draw too much attention if you come back, and we don't need that."

Closing the door and then the curtains, Remus stopped in his tracks as he made his way back to the bathroom, hearing Hermione sobbing on the other side of the door. He gave her a few minutes, frowning the whole time as sympathetic pain sliced through him, before tapping his fingers on the wood. "Hermione? Are . . . are you all right?"

"No," she said softly, sniffling a bit. "But I will be."

Minutes later, Remus sat on the bathroom counter, long legs crossed at the ankle in front of him as he quietly watched Hermione comb through her wet locks. He stared for a very long time in silence until she finally met his gaze. The eye contact lingered for a long time until the very smallest hint of a smile showed at the corners of her lips. He let out a breath of relief, knowing that she would be okay. Of  _course_ she would be okay—eventually.

"I'm going to phone for room service," he said.

She followed him out the door. "Do you know how to use a telephone?"

He turned and raised an incredulous eyebrow at her. "My mother was a Muggle, Hermione. I'm not as inept at this stuff as your average wizard," he said smugly, his tone reminiscent of one he'd use when talking with James, Peter, or Sirius. No, not Sirius, he likely obtained the tone  _from_ Sirius. Wherever it came from, it was smug and confident and Remus proudly ordered them lunch using the telephone. However, when it came to using the television remote, he was stumped.

They ate in relative silence, letting white noise from the television keep them from feeling the tension in the air. Halfway through her sandwich, Hermione stood up and reached for the pad of paper that Remus had used to write to Harry, and began scribbling down a list of things that needed to be taken care of. At a glance, he smiled, noting that everything he could see of her writing could be done easily by phone, so they wouldn't have to leave the room. "I sent the owl to Harry and then back to Hogwarts," he told her.

She glanced up at him. "What we said?"

"Mmhmm." Remus nodded. "America. Told him not to say a word unless it gets brought up. He'll run interference if it does. Said we'd meet them at King's Cross."

She smiled softly at him in gratitude before looking back down at her list. Tearing the paper off, she stood up, leaving half of her meal behind, and stepped over to the phone. Reaching into her beaded bag and removing a small phone book she'd stolen from her mother's purse, she began dialling. Remus did his best to leave her to her business, snagging a few grapes from her plate before retiring to the large bed, a look of determination on his face as he stared down at the remote.

* * *

"What time is it?" Hermione mumbled, hours later, wrapped in Remus's warm arms. Calls to finish up some affairs of her parents—in addition to spreading false rumours amongst their contacts as to their whereabouts—had left the young witch emotionally fatigued. She'd crawled in bed, stolen the remote from Remus, and clicked the television off before snuggling against his chest.

"Almost midnight," he replied, bending a bit to kiss her neck.

"They'll still be on the plane," she said softly.

He nodded. "By the time they land it'll be a new year. Or . . . I suppose it already is a new year in Sydney. Still . . ."

"New year, new lives."

Unable to say anything more because nothing felt right, Remus kissed her skin again. "I can see the lights from Trafalgar Square," he said. "You think the Muggles will set off fireworks?"

She huffed quietly. "They've nothing on Fred and George. Once you've witnessed a firework spelling out 'Poo', everything else seems to come up a bit short. The Wizarding world makes it hard to be impressed with Muggle things sometimes."

Remus grabbed the remote control and clicked the television back on. "I don't know about that," he muttered against her skin. "To my knowledge, the Wizarding world doesn't have adult movies quite so easily accessible."

She snorted and then rolled over, burying her face against his chest as she was wracked with uncontrollable giggles.

"Does that mean you don't want to watch one?" he teased, a light inside of him burning bright at the sound of her laughter, inflating his heart with every sweet chuckle and gasping breath. While she calmed down, Remus found a local channel that had shown a red-haired reporter, microphone in hand, standing in front of a crowd of smiling and shouting people. A small clock in the corner showed the countdown.

"Thank you, Remus."

"Anytime, love."

"I'm sad," she admitted. "But . . . I'm relieved as well. They're safe."

He nodded, taking her face in his hands. "They're safe," he reaffirmed just in case she needed that second opinion to solidify her own. "And you're brilliant and wonderful and . . . and I love you."

Hermione sighed and pressed her forehead against his. "I love you so much. I'll be okay," she whispered. "I'll be okay." Fireworks burst outside, and an echo of cheering could be heard from both the people outside and on the television. She turned and glanced at the screen, smiling sadly. "Happy New Year, Remus."

Pulling her attention back, Remus pressed his lips against hers.

* * *

**January 3rd, 1997**

They spent the remaining days away from Hogwarts watching films, ordering room service, and studying for exams. There were blissful gaps in time where they'd both forgotten what had led them to their current living circumstances, and they'd spend an hour snogging in bed only to stop when Remus pulled back, knowing that he'd either turn into an animal or embarrass himself terribly if they went any further. Despite having done much more while at Hogwarts, he was adamant that he not take advantage of her current vulnerable state.

"Wait . . ." he said, eyes wide and panicked as he sat in bed next to her, the duvet pulled up around their knees and a shared piece of store bought cheesecake from room service sitting between them, "they're  _not_ going to the moon?! But that was the whole point!"

She smiled sweetly at him and raked her fingers through his hair. Hermione had attempted to explain space travel to Remus, who had adamantly insisted that since he'd actually been alive during the first moon landing while she'd barely been a thought in her parents' minds, he was more educated than she was on the subject of space. After challenging one another for twenty minutes, she relented and told him that if he had any questions about the movie, she would refuse to answer them since he was so stubborn.

Space travel, he did happen to understand—at least the basics—but she'd ended up having to explain the appeal of Tom Hanks and Kevin Bacon. "You're getting awfully worked up," she said, silently hoping that they could turn the movie off now that the plot had taken a darker twist. She was half tempted not to tell him that everyone on the Apollo 13 mission survived. "Need I remind you that  _you're_ the one that picked this movie. You wouldn't be so stressed if we'd watched  _Sense and Sensibility_."

Remus grimaced, eyes still fixed on the screen. "I don't care what you say, that Brandon bloke looks just like—"

"Oh he does not!" Hermione argued.

"He does," Remus insisted, turning to look at her with a smirk on his face. "You're blinded by the romantic in you that swoons over Jane Austen characters."

Eyes wide, she swung her pillow at him and laughed. "I beg your pardon, sir? I do not swoon."

Remus snatched the pillow and tugged it close, pulling her up against him. "No?"

She giggled. "Never."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Yes," she said, her gaze fixated on his colour-shifting eyes.

Remus swallowed and then bent his head to run his nose up the length of her neck, breathing in the sweet scent that washed over him, igniting something inside of him rather than settling his nerves as it usually did. "Really?"

Hermione exhaled and shivered at his touch, pressing her hands against his thighs. "No, Remus . . . I . . .  _yes_."

He sat back, jumping away from her when her hands began to roam higher up his legs. Already the flannel pyjamas were too thin for his liking. "What? Oh. Hermione . . . I umm . . ." He looked down, torn between feeling overly protective of her considering her parents, and ashamed that a part of him desperately did not want to reject her advances. "I don't think that this is a good time."

She sighed heavily, an irritated look on her face. "I'd planned to."

"What?"

"This isn't about my parents," she insisted. "Remus . . . when you showed up at my house . . . Merlin, do you have any idea how much I've thought about this? How much I'd wanted to . . . before . . . before everything?" She sat up on her knees and took his face in her hands, instinctively he placed his hands on her hips and held her gently, possessively. "I love you. I want you. Quite badly, if I'm being perfectly honest and . . ."

"Hermione, I don't want to take advantage," he said with a heavy frown, a line between his brows prominent with concern. "I know how sad you've been and—"

"You make me happy."

He flinched. "I don't want to just be something for—"

"That's not what I meant," she said, drawing him into a tender kiss. "I know how I feel. You make me happy no matter what and . . . I love you. I can be sad about my parents and still happy that I'm with you. The two don't have to be related, Remus. Do you want me to prove it?"

He said nothing but watched as she reached for her wand, leaning over him to snatch it from the bedside table. He held back a groan when her hip brushed against his erection, and he scrubbed his palms down his face to try and hide what he knew were red cheeks. Wand in one hand, Hermione sat tall and smiled at him, pulling his fingers away from his face.

" _Expecto Patronum_!"

All arguments he'd had over why this was a bad idea flew out the window at the sight of the shimmering wolf in front of him. It was different. Different from his own Patronus, as well as Lupin's and Tonks's. The smaller wolf turned around near the foot of the bed and stared at them both with glimmering, almond-shaped eyes before throwing its head back and letting out a silent howl.

Something stirred in Remus's chest at the sight of the spectral creature, that he thought looked so much more lovely than his own. He turned and looked at Hermione, whose eyes were wider than he'd ever seen. Clearly, she'd expected to see her otter. He waited, watching and anticipating for her to frown in sadness over the change, but the corners of her lips turned up ever so slightly.

He was doomed.

The duvet fell to the floor and the plate of half-eaten cheesecake followed, cheap glass cracking on the decades old, stiff carpet. Hermione frantically pulled her pyjama top over her head, revealing to him her pale, exposed skin. Hands shaking, Remus tugged at his own shirt, nearly ripping it in the attempt to free himself of clothing. Hermione's giggling did not help calm him down. Chest to chest, skin on skin, he kissed her hard and deep, and he groaned when she ran her hands over him, stopping to gently touch each and every scar she came across save for the one on his shoulder that she knew to leave alone. When their lips parted, she nipped at the blemish free shoulder and his chest rumbled in reply.

Months ago, he would have been horribly ashamed of the marks on his skin, but she'd long since helped him get over those issues. Just in case, it seemed she planned on reminding him by whispering, "I love your body," into his ear. His cock hardened painfully at her words, and he pressed it against her thigh, surprised, at first, to notice that he was situated between her legs, as though he hadn't planned on being there.

"You make me mental," he muttered in between kissing her. "Do you know that?"

Hermione smiled up at him. "You make me a lot of things."

He would have done more. He had thought about this moment almost since meeting her, certainly since first kissing her, and he had always planned to take his time. He wanted to kiss every inch of her body, exploring it in depth and studying her closely. He had wanted to pleasure her to the point of absolute madness; make her moan and whimper and maybe even scream. He'd wanted to take his time.

But her thighs had hitched up against him and she tilted her hips at the same time as she slipped her hand down the front of his pants, gripping his length. She stroked the base while pressing the tip against her centre, nothing keeping them apart but clothing.

Remus hated clothing more than Voldemort.

As far as he was concerned, he was the Chosen One, prophesied to rid the world of pyjama bottoms and knickers and pants, and he put all his effort into doing so, stopping only when his foot got caught in his own underwear, revealing much more of himself to Hermione than he'd originally planned this early on, when he tumbled backward out of the bed and crashed onto the floor.

She'd giggled after ensuring that he wasn't injured, and he punished her insolence by climbing back up onto the bed, kissing her from toes to knee, knee to thigh, thigh to navel and then taking the tip of one breast between his lips. When she parted her thighs again and he settled between them, he'd looked at her once more for permission and then slowly entered her.

She winced a little at first but then rolled her eyes into the back of her head and whimpered. Remus wanted to ask her if she was all right, but he was much too busy burying his nose against her shoulder and holding as still as humanly possible, wincing as her body adjusted to him.  _Too soon, too soon, don't fucking embarrass yourself!_  he cursed silently.

"Oh," Hermione moaned. "I thought . . . I thought it would hurt but . . . wow," she said and subconsciously squeezed the muscles that enveloped his cock, pulling a noise from his throat that sounded much more like wounded puppy than fierce werewolf. He tried to cover it up with a growl to save face, but then she did it again and he cried out, rocking his hips against hers, quietly praising Merlin and Circe and the Founders.

"Remus, move," she pleaded.

"I can't."

"What? Is everything—?"

"You feel too good," he said regrettably, remembering a similar experience with Florence Fortescue behind the greenhouses. "Oh gods . . . Hermione, you feel too good. I don't want it to be over, and if I move—"

She pressed her lips against his ear and smiled. "I don't plan on this being the only time we'll do this, Remus," she promised him. "Now move, because I want to . . . I want to see your face when—"

He thrust once, cutting off her words that turned into delightful little moans and mewls. Eyes locked on hers, flickering down to her lips which were turned up into a smug grin, he groaned as her body squeezed him, worked him, moulded to him. He pushed into her harder, watching in wonder as she appeared to enjoy it. Her nails dug into his back and his fingers pressed against her hips. He felt like an animal and, for the first time in his life, it didn't bother him.

Thirteen.

_Lucky thirteen_ , he thought to himself as he stopped counting strokes and came inside of her with a deep grunt, pulsing and panting as her fingers stroked up and down his back.

An hour later, after ordering another cheesecake for them to split, Remus took his time and loved her the way he'd originally planned.

Pressed tight against her bare back, he held her in his arms and sighed into her mass of hair as a strand decided to tickle his nose. Twitching away the itch, he pressed his mouth to her shoulder in a tender kiss, occasionally licking at the strip of skin, smiling as he watched gooseflesh break out all over her body when she shivered in response.

"Mmm."

"Do you hurt?" he asked softly.

She shook her head and smiled. "Ache," she said. "It's a good ache. Very good."

He pulled her tighter into his arms and held her close. "I get it," he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"When . . . I was angry when Lupin eloped with Tonks. I thought he'd ruined her. I didn't care that . . . that he supposedly loved her or that she . . . I was just angry. But . . . I get it." Hermione rolled over and looked up into his eyes. He glanced down at the moon pendant between her breasts and sighed, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I get it."

Hermione smiled. "I hope this isn't your way of saying that you want to elope, because I have news for you."

Remus chuckled and kissed her lips. "Maybe . . . maybe one day," he admitted, looking quite vulnerable as the words slipped out of his mouth. "But . . . I just meant that . . . I could so easily lose myself in you, Hermione."

She lightly ran the tips of her fingers over his brow, down the bridge of his nose, and over his soft lips, before whispering, "I'll find you."


	32. Chapter 32

**January 5th, 1997**

When they met their friends at King's Cross, Hermione flew into Harry's arms and the two friends clung to one another. Harry whispered apologies over the danger he'd put her parents in, all while Hermione shushed him.

Remus stood by, tense; the full moon wasn't for another few weeks, but it had been the first time another man had touched Hermione since they'd had sex that first time—and the many times that had followed. "Shut up," he said quietly to his inner wolf as it paced back and forth anxiously, trying to convince Remus to break up the hug between friends and make some grand show of dominance.

"Talking to yourself there, Mini-Moony?" Sirius asked as he approached with a grin, the usual troupe of Aurors—his security—lurking in the distance.

Remus looked up and smirked slightly at his older friend. "You know me," he said quietly. "I've been off the trolley for years."

"I'm a bad influence," Sirius said with a chuckle and then turned to look at Harry and Hermione who both glanced up at the arrival of the Weasleys. Remus tensed when Ron gave Hermione a short hug and Sirius felt the movement, turning to look at the young wolf. "That's new," he said with a raised eyebrow, studying the boy. "Oh hell," he muttered with a wince and a disgruntled sigh a moment later when he'd put the pieces together. "Didn't need to know that."

"Didn't tell you," Remus said with a growl. "Nosy mongrel."

"You know I've been putting up with Moony and his issues since Christmas? Tonks can barely walk two feet without him following at her heels and growling at anyone that looks at her strangely. Just please remember your Contraceptive Charms. I can't handle dealing with two overly possessive werewolves at the same time." Remus reached out and jabbed Sirius in the rib cage hard, clenching his teeth and hoping that no one had overheard the man. Sirius only chortled quietly in reply.

"Where is Lupin?" Remus asked curiously.

Sirius sighed. "Order stuff," he said. "He was sad he couldn't be here but . . . with Tonks up the duff, he's trying to take on as much as possible to ease her load. She's still working as an Auror, but he's convinced her to hold off on some missions that are more . . . not dangerous but . . . stressful."

Remus frowned at the thought of his older self putting himself in danger but tried to focus on his own life, his own personal mission. Hermione turned around, happy tears in her eyes as Harry, Ron, and Ginny surrounded her, and she smiled at him. A warmth enveloped his chest and stirred his blood in the best way possible. "Not that you aren't good company, Padfoot," Remus teased, "but I think I'm going to say hello to people my own age."

Sirius feigned hurt feelings, clutching at his chest, and Remus laughed, pulling him in for a tight hug. "Be safe, old man."

"You too, you little shit," Sirius replied. "Look after Harry for me? Please."

"Always," Remus agreed, thinking of James and Lily.

* * *

The ride back to Hogwarts was mostly uneventful. Remus sat in a compartment with Harry and Neville while Ginny ran off to find Dean. Ron and Hermione were in a prefects' meeting, and Luna stopped in to say hello to Harry before telling them that she'd promised to deliver a few early copies of the Quibbler to a few of her Housemates. Harry sighed and then said, "I don't know if I should tell her that they're likely making fun of her when they ask for one."

"I don't think she'd care either way," Neville had pointed out. "So, anything interesting happen over the hols?"

Remus looked up, cheeks slightly pink and soft green eyes wide at Neville's question. Neville caught the look, but Harry missed it completely, leaning forward and glancing around the compartment as though they could be overheard. "You know that bloke in the papers, Scrimgeour? The one who's trying to get Fudge out as Minister for Magic?" Remus and Neville nodded. "He apparently came by the Burrow on Christmas. Thought I'd be there. Mr Weasley fire-called Sirius and Sirius slipped through the Floo as Padfoot just to listen in. Scrimgeour was talking to Mr and Mrs Weasley, asking if they thought they could convince me to put my political weight behind him as Minister for Magic," he said, his disgruntled tone in regards to his fame more than obvious. "Can you believe that?"

"Yes," Remus replied. "It's a nasty business, politics. After Fudge cleared your name, anyone you publicly back will likely steamroll anyone else that might have their foot in the game, Harry. Like it or not, the name Potter means something. It always has, just . . . well . . . now it means something different," he said with a sigh, recalling the way James had always complained when his mother sent him old books on Wizengamot laws and policies, just so he'd be prepared should he ever want to get involved. "It shows a lot about this Scrimgeour, though, that he went to the Weasleys instead of Sirius. He's manipulative."

Harry nodded. "I said I'd have nothing to do with it."

"Good for you, Harry," Neville said with a smile that faded just a touch. "Did umm . . . did anyone else have any problems after . . . y'know?"

"Death Eaters?" Harry asked, and Neville nodded. "No. Not on my end. The Order seems to be on top of things. At least, no one said anything," he muttered and gave Remus a look that he interpreted as Harry saying that no one had mentioned anything about Hermione or her parents.

"None for me," Remus said and then put a hand on Neville's shoulders. "Don't worry. We'll deal with it."

Neville nodded. "Should we . . . I dunno. Should we start doing D.A. stuff again, Harry?"

Harry was contemplative about the idea for a moment and then grinned. "If someone else can take over, I think it's a brilliant idea, Nev. I've got my lessons with Dumbledore, so I don't know if I have the time to really . . . I mean . . . I should be concentrating on that, yeah?"

Remus smiled in agreement. "I'm sure the rest of us could put something together, even if it's just practise duels."

The compartment door opened and Ron and Hermione stepped inside, looking like they were trying to catch their breaths. "Bloody Ravenclaws," Ron muttered and flopped onto the seat next to Harry. "Bunch of second years set off fireworks in their compartment. Scared the trolley lady half to death, I think. I'm tempted to write Fred and George and have some words. Bloody gits, making more work for me."

Hermione gave him an impatient look before she took her seat beside Remus, curling up against his side instinctively as he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close and bathing himself in her scent. "Everything else all right?" he asked.

She nodded. "Just a big mess," she said and then glared up at Ron. "And it would have been easier to deal with if  _someone_ hadn't run off."

He put up his hands in supplication. "Don't look at me like that. I was shoving wanderers back into their compartments, wasn't I? Plus that Greengrass girl was driving me round the bend, asking after Malfoy of all people."

Remus's brows furrowed. "Greengrass? The little one?"

Hermione nodded. "Astoria."

Ron shrugged. "The Ravenclaw girl. I told her I didn't know where the prat was, and that she needed to get back to her compartment."

"What did she want with Draco?" Remus asked.

"Isn't she the one that's . . . y'know . . . supposed to marry him or something?" Harry asked, clearly uncomfortable.

Hermione made a scoffing noise and Remus chuckled at her indignation. "He went back to Hogwarts by Floo, yeah?" When Harry nodded, Remus said, "When we get to school, I'll let him know she was looking for him. I know he's wanted to keep his distance for her protection or whatever, but . . . if she's looking for him, maybe something happened. Did she look upset?"

Ron shook his head. "Didn't look much like anything. Just a weird kid, I guess. Then, you'd have to be to want to marry Malfoy."

"As though she has a choice," Hermione mumbled angrily under her breath.

"Well, then why'd she want to see the ferret?" Ron asked.

Hermione sat up, adjusting her posture into one that they all recognised as her defensive stance, something she did whenever she was ready for a really good argument. Remus, desperate for a way to stop her and keep the peace, looked around for a distraction. When something shiny caught his attention, he stared and then let out a small laugh. "Ron, what's that around your neck?"

Harry didn't even try to stifle his laughter as Ron attempted to hide the large, gold-chained necklace with the word "sweetheart" on the end. Neville chuckled, and Hermione smiled. "Did Lavender give that to you?" she asked.

Ron huffed and his ears turned red. "What was I supposed to do? Toss it out?!"

Everyone grinned, and Hermione reached across to pat his shoulder. "I think it's lovely of you to wear it. It's hideous, it truly is," she said with a small laugh, "but I think Lavender will be over the moon when she sees you wearing it."

Ron sat a little taller at her words, and when the other boys continued to snicker a bit, he smirked at them and said, "I don't see any of  _you_ wearing things your girlfriends gave you for Christmas," as though he were suddenly very, very special.

* * *

**January 7th, 1997**

Hermione had been shocked that Filch wasn't on the lookout for them when Dumbledore's Army met inside the Room of Requirement. Considering the elation that the caretaker had gotten the previous year under Umbridge's reign, she fully thought that the man would have had Mrs Norris constantly monitoring the seventh floor for stragglers. According to the map, however, both Filch and his cat were out in the greenhouses, likely cleaning up the mess that a group of first year Gryffindors had made earlier that day while trying to repot Bouncing Bulbs.

Remus held the door to the room open while the D.A. filed inside, complete with new members that had been too young to join the year before. Ron and Lavender stepped inside, and Hermione snorted when he held her hand as though the girl needed help up the small step. He turned and threw a glare in her direction and then beamed brightly when Lavender simpered in response to his gallantry.

When Harry made to step inside the room, Hermione pushed herself in front of him and then kicked at the door so that it swung back and almost slammed in his face. She turned quickly, her hair following in her wake, and Remus looked down at his shocked friend and smiled. "To be fair, mate, you really did get out of that assignment too easily."

Harry huffed. "A bezoar is a perfectly acceptable antidote to poison! She's just mad because she didn't think of it."

Remus rolled his eyes but smirked. "To be fair, you didn't think of it either. Snape did. And I don't want to tell you again what kinds of other things go through that man's head."

Once securely inside the room, Harry took over, at least to tell the rest of the group that Remus and Neville would be helping from time to time when Harry was busy. A few people questioned what Harry would be so preoccupied with, but they wound up with an earful from Hermione about exams, so they stopped questioning just about anything regarding Harry's whereabouts and goings on.

The older students paired up with the youngers to help them perfect their shields, which were quite adept with Professor Snape as their DADA teacher that year, something that irked most of the older students considering the number of rubbish instructors they'd had to put up with in the past.

"I can't believe first years are already learning actual defence," Ron groaned as he leant against a wall in the back, watching as the younger years practised duelling with one another under the careful eye of their older counterparts. "We didn't learn anything from Quirrell except the origin of gnomes. I know where gnomes live, in my bloody garden is where."

Harry snorted. "To be fair, Quirrell technically taught us how to put a three-headed dog to sleep, in a roundabout way."

Hermione fought the urge to smile, still upset with her friend.

"Ginny and I missed out on that. What did you learn second year?" Luna asked as she leant against Harry, unaware of the way his cheeks turned pink the closer she got.

Ron laughed. "We learned Lockhart's favourite colour. What was it again, 'Mione?"

"Shut up." She folded her arms across her chest. "And he was at least better than Umbridge. Or fourth year when we were taught by an actual Death Eater."

Everyone nodded their heads, and both Harry and Neville grimaced at the memory.

"Third year was brill," Parvati said with a grin as she walked over to join the conversation, sharing a giggle with Lavender. "Your dad is fit, Remus."

"Nope," Remus said, shaking his head.

"Really fit."

"So fit," Lavender said, agreeing.

He gaped at the witches, who just giggled again in response. Ron turned from his laughing girlfriend to glare at Remus as though he had done something wrong. "What? It's not like they . . ." he began to say but then stopped and exhaled sharply through his nose. "Can we get back to . . . the lesson or . . . training or . . . whatever?"

Hermione finally broke her stern expression and grinned at the way Remus's face flushed. "He was a brilliant  _teacher_. Best we ever had."

"And fit," Parvati said again, a deviant grin on her face at the way that Remus and the other boys reacted. "Wouldn't you say Professor Lupin was fit, Lav?"

Lavender smiled and then reached out for Ron's hand when he pouted and tried to walk away from her. "Oh, you!" she said and planted a kiss on his lips. "I quite prefer my men younger and with more colour to their hair."

Ginny snorted in amusement, looking away from her brother and his girlfriend, only to end up face to face with Dean, who was staring at her, arms folded across his chest in silent question. "What?" she asked. "I was twelve when Lupin was my professor. I didn't fancy anyone."

"Fancied Harry," Ron muttered and then stumbled back when Ginny punched him in the arm.

"How about we all stop talking about fancying . . . professors?" Harry suggested. "It's putting awful images in my head, and I'm going to have bloody nightmares about Umbridge in a dressing gown or something if you lot keep this up," he insisted and then smirked when everyone else burst out laughing. "Right, since we're talking about Lupin," he eyed Parvati, "whether we wanted to or not . . . maybe let's show the younger years how to cast a Patronus."

Those who had been in the D.A. the year before all stood up excitedly. Harry demonstrated the proper form and gave general instructions before everyone cast simultaneously, " _Expecto Patronum_!"

Harry's stag was largest of them all, and it stepped forward looking regal, its antlers nearly reaching a low hanging iron chandelier. Next to it was Remus's wolf, who sniffed curiously and circled the stag before darting off around the room, as though it were investigating. Neville was in the corner, struggling with his charm that, so far, had just turned into a large, bright, shapeless blob. Soundlessly, Ron's small terrier barked and chased Lavender's floppy-eared bunny around the room, while Luna's hare tilted its head to the side and watched in amusement, mimicking her exact expression.

"Oh, Hermione, how pretty!" Lavender said brightly, staring at the brunette witch who stood beside her Patronus, a small wolf that sat at her side like a guardian statue.

Ron blinked in confusion. "Hey wait . . . I thought you had one of those little . . . water weasels?"

Hermione pursed her lips in annoyance. "An otter, Ronald. And my . . . my Patronus changed," she admitted shyly, looking down at the ground to avoid the grin that was plastered on Remus's face.

Harry was smiling at his friends, and when a second year Hufflepuff asked why Hermione's Patronus had changed, he answered, "Patronuses can change sometimes when there's an umm . . . emotional . . . change."

Almost as one, the group turned and stared at Remus, who blushed in response and then walked across the room, his wolf Patronus following behind him, to take Hermione's hand. "Back to work!" he called over his shoulder and ignored the giggles that followed he and Hermione—and their matching Patronuses—out of the room.

The second that the door closed behind them, he turned to apologise to her for the embarrassment but never had a chance to as his arms were suddenly full of witch and his lips were instantly preoccupied as she kissed him. The Patronuses at their sides brightened dramatically before vanishing altogether.

Hermione moaned against his mouth and he fought the desperate urge to push her up against the nearby wall. He sighed when their lips broke apart and he pressed his nose into her hair. "Merlin . . . I know it's only been a few days, but—"

"I know," she whispered. "I should have better control of myself considering everything that's happening, and the fact that we're at school, and there's so much that we need to be . . . but I . . . I think I got quite used to waking up next to you."

He smiled and kissed her again. "I got quite used to going to sleep next to you," he said, lowering his hands to her waist and then moving them around to cup her arse. "I need you. The moon is still two weeks away but . . . I didn't think I'd feel like this."

"I can't imagine," she said softly, biting her lower lip. "If I feel like this . . . you must be going positively mad."

"Mad for you," he said and then kissed her again, this time actually pushing her up against the wall.

They groaned and moved against one another, both only slightly still aware that all of their friends remained on the other side of the door and could walk out at any moment. Remus fought the primal urges as much as he could, the only thing keeping him even slightly calm was the fear of what might happen the closer they actually came to the full moon. "I love you," he said against her lips to try and ground himself emotionally.

She smiled and pulled away, kissing his cheek. "I love—"

A loud scuffle several floors down caught their attention and they both jumped away from one another at the sound of voices carrying up the stairs.

"Fetch Professor Snape at once!" McGonagall shouted.

"He's not in the castle, Minerva," Flitwick said, his voice tense. "Why, if I hadn't been on my way to the kitchens, I wouldn't have even seen the commotion until perhaps it was too late."

Remus took Hermione's hand and rushed out of the corridor toward the staircase so that they could look down. The two professors were surrounded by a group of students in black and green robes, led by Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass. Next to them stood Theo Nott and Pansy Parkinson, both with wands held up as they floated the unconscious body of another student quickly forward.

"Everyone, return to your rooms," McGonagall said as she flicked her wand and cast a Patronus that darted off in the direction of the Hospital Wing. Flitwick, likewise, took over for Pansy and Theo, levitating the body.

"But she's my sister!" Daphne cried. "I want to be with her!"

McGonagall sighed, but then nodded. "Very well, come along. No, Mr Malfoy, please return to your dormitory with your fellow Slytherins. I will have Professor Snape let you all know when Miss Greengrass is allowed visitors."

"When Professor Snape returns, he should be given this," he said in reply, holding something out to the older witch. McGonagall looked down at the parchment and covered her mouth with one slender hand in shock. She nodded quickly and then turned, following after Daphne and Flitwick.

Draco did not move as he watched everyone disperse, either to the infirmary or back to the dungeons, leaving him alone except for Pansy and Theo. The three Slytherins looked up as Remus and Hermione descended the staircase, worried expressions on their faces. Both Pansy and Theo masked themselves in indifference—the witch unable to control the sneer that escaped her. Draco, however, looked to be a mixture of despondent and vengeful.

"What happened?" Hermione asked. "Was that Astoria Greengrass?"

"None of your business, Mud—"

"Pansy!" Draco turned and narrowed his eyes at his friend but then put a hand on her shoulder. The Slytherin clenched her teeth and blinked away angry tears before turning and burying her face in Theo's shoulder to hide the fact that she was almost actually crying from the pair of Gryffindors.

Remus looked to Draco for an explanation. "What happened?"

The blond was seething in an attempt to control his rage, and they could see his magic actually hovering over the skin of his hands. When Remus reached out to his friend, Draco pulled away and shook his head. "We need to get back to the dungeons," he insisted. "I have to write to my mother and . . ." He looked up. "Can I trust you, Lupin?"

Remus blinked. "Of course," he replied immediately. "We're fighting the same war here, Draco."

Theo scoffed and Pansy finally stormed away, her heels clicking on the ground and echoing down the corridor. Draco frowned, his gaze following his friend before he turned and looked back to the Gryffindors. "Tomorrow night, Room of Requirement," he said. "Bring everyone."

Hermione raised a brow. "Everyone?"

"Your whole lot. You know who I mean, Granger. I don't want any surprises, so we better do this all at once . . . unless I change my mind," he said, looking down like he was contemplating doing just that. Without another word, he turned and walked back toward the dungeons, leaving Hermione and Remus standing there, confused as ever.

* * *

**January 8th, 1997**

Harry and Ron were naturally the hardest to convince, considering it was the Slytherins they were talking about, some of whom had been involved with Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad the year before. However, rumours spread quickly around the school and by lunch, almost everyone had been informed in one way or another that Astoria Greengrass had been cursed and removed to St Mungo's for treatment. Her sister Daphne had been excused from classes, and many of the sixth year Slytherins stood loyally by her side, refusing to leave their common room for most of the day.

When Dumbledore's Army gathered together again inside the Room of Requirement, most were on edge as they waited for the much whispered about meeting between them and the Slytherins, led by Draco Malfoy.

"What do you suppose they want?" Dean asked.

Seamus shrugged. "Who knows with their lot? If you ask me, it was them that cursed the little girl."

Cho turned and glared at him. "Never! Astoria was a Ravenclaw, and the way she talked about her sister . . . Daphne wouldn't have allowed it."

"Still," Seamus muttered. "They're Slytherins."

Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "This has to stop," she muttered.

Frowning, Harry nodded in agreement. "Hermione's right. We've got bigger enemies out there to worry about than Slytherins. We need to think about Voldemort." When half the room flinched in response at the name, Harry threw up his hands and struggled not to scream.

The knock at the door stopped everyone from talking amongst themselves and they all turned, silent and still, as Harry and Remus approached the door and opened it.

One by one, Slytherins filed into the sacred space of the D.A., most looking stone-faced and expressionless, though a few, like Pansy and the Carrow twins, sneered as they looked around at the other three Houses gathered together, creating a wall of defence, or so it appeared. Draco stepped forward, Daphne's hand in his. He patted her arm gently, and she looked up, eyes red.

"They hurt my sister."

"Who?" Harry immediately asked.

"Death Eaters," Draco replied. "Specifically, Bellatrix Lestrange."

Neville moved closer, eyes focused as he stood side by side with Remus. "Why?" he asked. "She's a Ravenclaw and a little girl and—"

"And she knew how to get to me," Draco snapped at him before turning his attention back to Harry. "Over the holidays, Astoria went home while Daphne went to Pansy's. We think . . . we think the Greengrasses have been Imperiused or . . . are being blackmailed somehow."

Ron frowned. "She was looking for you," he said, staring at Draco. "On the train." He blinked slowly and then lowered his gaze to the ground, looking guilty. "I should have known—"

"Have you been trained to spot the Imperius Curse, Weasley?" Draco asked sceptically. "As amusing as it normally is to watch you try to comprehend your complete and utter—"

"Draco," Theo muttered impatiently.

Sighing in irritation, Draco cleared his throat. "She was Imperiused to give me a Christmas gift. I've been avoiding her all year to keep her safe, and until last night, I'd been successful. She waited outside of our common room for hours, though, and refused to leave. When I politely refused the gift, she panicked, opened the box, and tried to give me the pair of cufflinks inside. They'd been cursed."

Hermione stepped forward and reached out, putting a hand on Daphne's shoulder. "What are the Healers saying?" she asked.

Daphne looked up at the other witch and sighed. "She's asleep. A . . . a coma. They don't know what will happen. She's so little and . . ."

"It was meant for me. My own aunt tried to have me killed and ended up hurting Astoria," Draco said angrily.

"Ravenclaw or not," Pansy spoke up. "She's Daphne's sister, and that makes her one of us."

Theo nodded. "Slytherins take care of our own."

Harry frowned. "I'm sorry about your sister," he said to Daphne but then looked to Draco. "What . . . what do you want from us, Malfoy?"

There was a tense moment of silence while Draco seemed to contemplate his options before Daphne elbowed him in the ribs. He glared at her briefly before softening and turning back to Harry. He took in a deep breath and collected his pride before slowly extending a hand toward Harry. "We're in," he said firmly. "All of us. No one is safe until . . . until the Dark Lord is dead."

Wide eyes surrounded Harry and Draco, gaping at the extended hand that hung in the air between them.

Taking a moment to assess the situation, Harry licked his lips, turned to glance at Hermione and Ron, both looking positively gobsmacked, before turning back to Draco and taking the Slytherin's hand in a firm shake. "His name is Voldemort," Harry said.

Draco sighed, clearly still affected by the name. "Just kill the bastard, Potter. I don't care what you put on the tombstone."


	33. Chapter 33

**January 23rd, 1997**

The week leading up to the first full moon of the year had Remus more agitated than ever before. His headaches were terrible and his temper was worse. Not only that, but his attention span fluctuated by the hour and he'd been called out on his low marks by three separate professors. Eventually, it was Hermione who gave in and pulled him into a broom cupboard on sixth floor next to a chipped bust of Glanmore Peakes.

He wanted to be strong enough to tell her that he didn't need her for this, that he could fight away the instincts that came with the changing moon, but then she'd fallen to her knees and began pulling at his trousers, and it had taken every ounce of strength inside of Remus not to just cry in relief.

Her lips wrapped around his cock like a warm sheath, and he gripped a broom behind him just so that he wasn't tempted to put his hands on her head. When the broom handle snapped like a twig on a particularly beautiful lick, Hermione yelped and Remus had briefly been terrified that she'd bitten him and he'd not noticed. Despite both being terribly embarrassed, Hermione eagerly sought to finish what she started, and Remus cried out her name before throwing his head back and knocking his skull into the brick wall.

Minutes later, after he'd recovered enough to notice that she hadn't muttered any Cleaning Spells, Remus realised that she'd swallowed, and he pushed out a voice in his head that sounded too much like Sirius, telling him to propose marriage immediately.

The following morning, when they'd sat down to breakfast with their Housemates, Hermione tapped her wand against his tall glass of pumpkin juice, turning it from orange to a thick, pale yellow.

Remus sniffed the contents and raised a brow. "Pineapple juice?"

She cleared her throat and muttered, "The manganese should help counteract the ageing symptoms of lycanthropy."

Trusting her, Remus began drinking down the juice, wincing slightly at the acidic taste.

Seamus took a seat next to Harry across from the couple and smirked at Remus's breakfast. "Didja know that drinking pineapple juice apparently makes your spunk taste good?"

Remus instantly began choking and Hermione schooled her features before throwing a glare and a nonverbal Stinging Hex in Seamus direction. Remus finished his juice while Harry cringed at the couple, ignoring the way that Ron was attempting the charm himself, only to end up with a glass full of prune juice instead.

"Don't suppose that helps, does it?" he asked, staring at the viscous purple-brown liquid.

Lavender grimaced. "Please don't drink that."

That night, Hermione followed Remus out to the Shrieking Shack two hours before moonrise and did her best to make him forget about the approaching evening, though both knew it was impossible. His skin burned hot and itched until her hands smoothed over him, distracting him from the developing aches. Her sweat-slick body rocked in an unsteady rhythm, straddling his hips as he buried himself inside of her, wishing he never had to part from her.

She gasped loudly as she came and he pressed his cheek against her breastbone, listening to the pounding of her heart that was like the drums of war, urging him toward his own completion. Sated, and temporarily distracted from the pain in his muscles and buzzing in his brain, Remus traced his fingers over her body, kissing her neck.

"I love you," he said. "I've never . . . I have never loved anyone or anything like I love you."

She smiled and threaded her fingers through his damp hair. "I wish I could stay," she said, her smile turning sad.

He kissed her lips. "I don't. As much as I loved my friends for it, it was right stupid of James and Sirius to become Animagi so young, and without proper instruction."

Hermione looked away and then shrugged her shoulder as she climbed off of him, hissing when he slipped from her body. "I don't know," she said. "I think it was kind of brilliant."

Remus stared at her, torn between concern and the primal need to stare at her body as the setting sun made her glowing skin look positively otherworldly. "Hermione."

She smiled innocently at him. "I'm just saying—"

His eyes widened. "Hermione."

She bent down and kissed his lips. "I love you. Be safe tonight."

"Hermione!" he called after her, watching as she smiled at him before vanishing through the door, erecting security wards as she left. Remus scrubbed his face, torn over the idea of his girlfriend endangering herself by even thinking about becoming an Animagus. At the same time, he couldn't think of a single thing that would improve his nights in the shack more than her presence.

He stood, gathered clothes in his arms that he levitated out of reach, and then breathed in deep to prepare, letting the scent of rose oil and oranges and sweat and sex fill him. He grinned defiantly as he gazed out the crack in the boarded up window; Hermione's Patronus slipped into the room, passing through the door to join him for as long as the charm would allow.

Seeing the glow of the rising moon—as though it were a dementor and he was suddenly well armed—he growled, "Bring it on."

* * *

**February 14th, 1997**

Sirius cringed as he looked across the table at Snape, wondering what gods he'd managed to properly piss off in his youth that were forcing him to now spend Valentine's Day—of all days—with the spiteful Slytherin. Dumbledore had called a meeting of the Order, or rather  _Snape_ had evidently called a meeting after visiting his  _other_ "family" and learning supposed important information. Sirius, who had planned on venturing out into Muggle London in search of lonely women lacking Valentine's Day dates, had to cancel said plans in order to open up his house to a herd of Order members, which included a huffing Molly Weasley who took over his kitchen, all the while complaining about not having had a proper date in over twenty years. Sirius thought briefly to suggest that had she learnt a Contraceptive Charm in Hogwarts, her calendar might've opened up a bit more, but he found he liked his testicles right where they were.

He drummed his fingers on the table, leaning back in his chair as they waited for Dumbledore and McGonagall to show up. With the meeting taking place on Valentine's Day and several members of the Order also Hogwarts Professors, they needed to make sure they weren't leaving the castle without a decent amount of supervision since the students tended to get a little out of hand and inappropriate for the holiday. Sirius smirked to himself, remembering the letter he'd sent to Harry earlier that week. The boy had been exceptionally nervous about the approaching weekend, especially since Luna's birthday fell the day before Valentine's Day. Sirius assured him that, no, one gift would not count for both events, and yes, he absolutely should practise all the charms Sirius had taught him over the summer because while Luna seemed like a nice, quiet witch, a bloke could never be too prepared and Sirius wasn't ready to be called Grandpa just yet.

He snickered at the thought of babies considering he could hear the way that Lupin's breathing sped up anytime anyone walked within a foot of Tonks, who had her feet propped up in his lap. When Bill leant across the younger Auror to snatch a book on the shelf behind her, Lupin had audibly snarled and was so embarrassed he spent the next ten minutes apologising.

Sirius smiled. It was good to see that his best friend had come around to the idea of fatherhood. All it took was a nervous breakdown and a few good punches to the face.

The Floo roared to life and Albus and Minerva stepped through, one looking quite a bit more perturbed than the other. Sirius smiled up at her. "All right there, Minnie?"

She turned and glared at the man before turning her attention to the rest of the Order. "Apologies for our tardiness. We were held up when, at dinner, several roast chickens turned into doves and began flying around the Great Hall." Her eyes were narrowed and glanced back and forth between Sirius and Lupin.

"It was quite a bit of admirable transfiguration if I do say so myself," Albus said with a chuckle before taking a seat.

"Indeed," Minerva snapped.

Molly looked positively scandalised. "Who on earth would have done such a thing?" When several stares fell in her direction, she flushed bright pink. "Don't you dare look at me. Fred and George aren't even at Hogwarts and Ron's O.W.L. in Transfiguration could have been quite a bit better if he knew how to turn dead birds into living ones!"

Instantly, everyone turned and looked between Sirius and Lupin. Sirius was grinning. "What do you say, Moony? Take a guess at which of our kids caused a fuss?"

Lupin rolled his eyes, and Tonks giggled under her breath, affectionately touching her stomach as though the mere mention of mischief was making her prematurely proud of the future Marauder growing inside of her.

"There will be no need for such antics, Sirius Black," Minerva insisted as she took her own seat. "Mister Potter will be serving detention with Argus tonight, cleaning up the mess in the Great Hall that the doves left behind."

Sirius immediately looked proud. Lupin finally let out a sharp laugh, earning a glare from his previous instructor. "I knew it wasn't Remus," he insisted.

"Oh no," Minerva said. "Young Mister Lupin was not involved in the slightest. I know this because he was not present at dinner," she said, her ire clearly growing. "And neither was Miss Granger."

Molly gasped and brought a hand to her mouth.

Lupin cringed, glaring a bit when the redhead looked in his direction as though he had anything to do with this new information.

Sirius, in between laughing, rolled his eyes, tempted to point out to Molly that her own children were just as much a bag of hormonal nonsense as the rest of the lot.

Thankfully, Dumbledore cleared his throat and smiled, ending the conversation immediately. "I would like to begin, by thanking Sirius, as usual, for hosting us in his home, and Molly for putting together a feast the likes of which can only be rivalled by Hogwarts house-elves."

The red-haired witch blushed as she fussed about with the food in front of them, as though she still needed to tend to it. "It's not much. Some of us, I imagine, had plans for this evening, and there's no need for everyone to starve, after all," she said with a heavy sigh, very purposely not looking at her husband, whose ears had turned pink with the embarrassment of a man who'd accidentally forgotten what day it was.

Arthur cleared his throat and took a sip of water. "Is everything . . . why such an urgent meeting?"

Tonks looked up. "Is this about the Ravenclaw girl?"

At Dumbledore's curious glance, Lupin explained, "Remus owled me."

Sirius narrowed his gaze at the headmaster, who had very clearly assumed that word hadn't reached the rest of the Order about the incident that had taken place the previous month. Though Harry had unfortunately been quiet about it in his letters home—something that irked Sirius and made him bitter toward Dumbledore, who he blamed for the boy keeping secrets—the other children were very vocal about the goings on at the school. "Draco did as well. Sent a letter that night to his mother," he said, recalling his last visit with Narcissa who, despite her Malfoy prestige, had been in true Black form the night she was told that her son had almost been cursed by her eldest sister. "Is it true? Bellatrix attacked a little girl?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Young Mister Malfoy gave Minerva a letter that was found inside the box that Miss Greengrass had been tasked to give him."

"Imperiused you mean," Sirius corrected him.

"Indeed. The letter was from Bellatrix Lestrange, who, it does seem, sought to murder her own nephew for what she perceives is a personal slight against Voldemort." The others around the table shifted in their seats uncomfortably, clearly itching to do something. "Not just his own, but his mother and father as well. I imagine she thought to harm her own sister by murdering the boy."

"Will she be okay, Albus?" Molly asked, brow furrowed in concern for the little girl. Sirius looked up and sighed. He and Molly hadn't always seen eye to eye, but the love for their children had been something they could agree on. While he was certain that she had never once thought of Astoria Greengrass before tonight, he imagined she and Arthur both were thinking about Ginny and how she'd been used as a tool for Voldemort before, just like the Greengrass girl.

"She's in St. Mungo's and all signs, I'm told, point to an eventual recovery, though the road will be a long one, unfortunately," Dumbledore informed them.

"Narcissa's enraged that it could have been Draco," Sirius said, thinking for a moment that he could still hear the ringing in his ears from when his cousin's voice had gone up several octaves in her rage, demanding to know exactly how the Order and Dumbledore were to be protecting Draco. Sirius had been wondering the same thing, lately.

Tonks spoke up, adjusting in her chair uncomfortably and pushing away Lupin's hands as he sought to help her. "Mum too. Now that they're getting along, it's like the House of Black has been fully resurrected with new purpose and is out for vengeance," she said, and both she and Sirius chuckled. "Poor Dad. How's the sister? Greengrass, I mean. The parents were brought into the Ministry, I know, and they were clearly Imperiused. Poor things didn't remember much of what happened, and now they're under a Fidelius for their own protection."

"Miss Greengrass has been doing better since the incident," Minerva replied. "Her Housemates have been supporting her quite well."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Not just  _her_ Housemates."

Sirius quirked a brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Black," Snape said, rolling his eyes, "that the impossible has finally happened. The  _Slytherins_ are, at least, being discreet."

"It would appear that inter-House unity has finally been somewhat achieved," Minerva said primly, though the look in her eyes said that she was amused by whatever had happened. Sirius had seen that look before. It happened anytime he and his friends had done something supremely stupid, but clever enough not to have House points taken away during their youth. "The children are getting along, for the most part, and are working together. They think they're being quite sly about it, hiding in the Room of Requirement, and I don't entirely agree with their methods." The older witch's mood changed dramatically from amused to annoyed, and she turned her developing wrath on Dumbledore. "Albus, they should not have to feel they need to . . . to  _train_ one another under those circumstances. You know what they're doing in there! Those children are preparing for war!"

"As they should be," Snape said.

"Wait . . . Harry's leading the D.A. again?" Lupin asked, eyes wide.

"I wouldn't say that Mister Potter is, in fact, the ringleader of the organisation any longer," Dumbledore replied. "It has become more of a . . . democracy."

Sirius snorted. "Hermione then."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Molly stood, waving her hands dramatically to draw attention. "The children have reformed their little group?! Albus!"

"It is no worse than a duelling club, Molly, I assure you."

"And why are they not being taught basic defence in the proper class?!" she demanded, turning her anger on Snape.

The Slytherin glared at her in response. "Because we are at  _war_ , in case it has slipped your mind!"

"Severus . . ." Arthur said, his voice tensing.

Snape ignored the man. "And as much as you like to believe that your children will spend this war knee-high, clinging to your skirts, the fact of the matter is that that Dark Lord's plan for the Wizarding world stems on whether or not he is able to defeat Harry Potter." Sirius tensed at the tone and words that went along with it, clenching his fist around a tumbler of firewhisky next to his plate. " _Anyone_  associated with the boy is a target as well! With Lucius and Narcissa's betrayal, Draco has likewise been put on a list. Miss Granger is high profile because of her blood status and association with Potter," Snape said and then narrowed his black eyes at Lupin. "And of course your . . .  _son_. . . has been targeted because of what he is! These are no longer children, and as much as I would like to prepare them, my priority is not first to the education of your whelps but to the Order and to the—"

Lupin bristled, but it was Tonks who stood up, her hair shifting colour to turn as black as her mother's House, her eyes flashing from green to a dangerous grey. "Wait, Remus is . . . is he actually being targeted?"

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "The Dark Lord has been told that there is a werewolf at Hogwarts."

"How?" Lupin asked.

"Besides the fact that the entire student body is aware?" Snape sarcastically replied. "Several students have written to their parents. It is hardly a secret. However, since the little  _beast_ is friends with Potter, the Dark Lord wants to put him to use."

Lupin stood, both he and Tonks looking dangerous. "Never!"

Sirius growled from his seated position at the head of the table, "You tell Voldemort to go fuck himself!"

"Yes, I'll get right on that," the Potion's Master snapped in his direction.

"Tonks, Remus . . . please sit," Dumbledore encouraged. "Severus would not put your son in harm's way, I assure you."

Sirius scoffed. "Like I'd I believe that."

"While Voldemort does not intend to harm young Remus, it appears that he has become aware of what the boy goes through during the full moons while at Hogwarts. He knows that he takes Wolfsbane Potion, and spends the duration of the full moon in the Shrieking Shack."

Sirius stared at Snape. "Wonder how he got that information."

The man lifted a dark, challenging eyebrow. "You can put yourself at fault for that, if you'd like."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, if you'd actually  _murdered_ Pettigrew like you were sent to Azkaban for doing, then I imagine he wouldn't have been able to tell the Dark Lord,  _in detail_ , the ins and outs of how to raise a werewolf at Hogwarts, now would he?"

Sirius's mouth fell open in shock and he shared a look with Lupin, both men looking torn. They'd wanted to kill Peter in the Shrieking Shack just a few years ago, but Harry's pity and good heart had stopped them. "Peter did this?" Lupin asked. "Peter told Voldemort about . . . about Remus and . . ." His hands clenched into tight fists.

Tonks reached out and put her hand on his leg. "Take a breath, love."

"The Dark Lord has . . .  _requested_. . . that I purposely ruin the next batch of Wolfsbane Potion so that the werewolf poses a greater threat to the students," Snape said, holding up a hand when both Sirius and Lupin looked like they were going to have another outburst. "If a Hogwarts student is infected, or mauled, then the Ministry would have no choice but to remove the Headmaster . . .  _again_."

"They'd send Umbridge back in," Lupin muttered angrily.

"Not exactly," Snape grumbled, casting a glare in Dumbledore's direction.

Dumbledore merely smiled at him. "We believe that once I am ousted from the school, Voldemort will pull strings to have me replaced . . . with Severus."

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Sirius yelled.

"The Dark Lord has almost completed his infiltration of the Ministry," Snape informed. "With the Headmaster out of Hogwarts and ruined by reputation, he expects me to allow the other Death Eaters into the school. Replace the current staff with his own. Potter would be too easy to bring to him, not to mention the plethora of Muggle-borns and children of known blood traitors."

Sirius finally stood, knocking his chair over behind him. "Over my dead body!"

Molly seemed just as irate. "Albus! What do we do?!"

"Obviously, Severus has to, to some extent, follow Voldemort's orders."

Lupin stared at Dumbledore, gobsmacked. "What?! No! Dumbledore . . . you have no idea what you'd be putting Remus through even suggesting that—"

"Severus  _has_ to tamper with the Potion, however, the young Mr Lupin is, I'm sure, used to spending the full moon without it, as unfortunate as that may be." Dumbledore's tone hadn't changed and Sirius wondered if the headmaster did, in fact, know the difference that the potion made for werewolves considering he was so flippant about it. "Still, with Voldemort's information about the Shrieking Shack obtained from Peter Pettigrew, we are at an advantage. His information was obtained from his own experiences twenty years ago. Security for the Shack would have likely been changed since then, perhaps?"

"New wards?" Lupin asked.

Sirius refused to sit back down, continuing to glare in Dumbledore's direction. "Will that be enough?"

"I believe so."

"Maybe I should go to Hogwarts," Sirius said. "I can spend the full moon in the Shack with—"

"Any sighting of you, and the Dark Lord would know that I have compromised my mission," Snape spoke up. "If you're too stupid to have noticed, there are some things I am certainly not allowed to inform the Order on, and releasing a werewolf into the student population is one of them!"

Before Sirius could leap across the table as he was wont to do when his intelligence was questioned—in his own home and by a Death Eater no less—Lupin came to the rescue. "Everyone calm down. Sirius, you can't go to Hogwarts, you know that. But  _I_  should go. Not to stay but . . . I should be the one to tell Remus."

"I don't believe we should give young Remus any more to worry about and—" Dumbledore began only to find himself cut off mid-sentence by nearly everyone in the room save for Snape.

"No! He gets told," Sirius demanded. "There'll be no more keeping secrets from the kids. They're training themselves for war for Merlin's sake. Keeping secrets from those kids is what put them all in danger last year."

Molly sobbed into a napkin. "Sirius, they're just—"

"They're not, Molly. I'm sorry, but this is war and they stopped being actual children the moment Voldemort returned. Maybe . . . maybe before that."


	34. Chapter 34

**February 15th, 1997**

"Ridiculous," Hermione said, fuming.

Remus frowned knowing that he should be feeling sorrier for himself than guilty for the anger she was feeling, but he'd been without the Wolfsbane Potion his entire life. He was used to suffering. It was apparently this point that his girlfriend had taken issue with. "Hermione, it's not like Snape has a choice."

"Dumbledore has a choice!" she yelled. It was important, he noted, that she hadn't corrected him on his reference to Snape without the title of Professor preceding it. "There are options, Remus, and Dumbledore is putting you at risk the same way that he's done to Harry and—"

"If  _anyone's_ being put at risk, it's the rest of the students and staff of Hogwarts. Even with the Wolfsbane Potion I'm—"

She spun around, eyes blazing. "If you say the word 'monster', Remus John Lupin, so help me, Merlin!"

He would have smiled had she not terrified him so. "Dangerous.  _Dangerous_. You cannot deny that I am a danger to others," he told her, hands held up in supplication. "Being or beast, whatever you'd like the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to consider me, I am a werewolf and, even with the Wolfsbane Potion, I need to be locked up in the Shrieking Shack to protect everyone at Hogwarts." When she didn't argue despite still looking like she wanted to, he felt that he'd won some small victory. "I have control under the potion, but it's still limited. I'm not a lap dog like Sirius, Hermione. Under the full moon, I'm a werewolf, and I'm programmed to hunt and bite and kill. The primal need to . . . to do that is strong, even with the potion."

She threw her hands up. "Fine! Dumbledore's endangering everyone, including you! I just need to—"

"I love you," he said, interrupting her and smiling when she pouted instead of carrying on with her livid tirade.

He'd not been pleased when Professor McGonagall had called him into her office to let him know what had happened at the Order meeting the night before. The way she spoke to him in short clips, wording herself so very carefully, made him realise that she'd been chosen to tell him for a reason. A part of him wondered just exactly how Sirius and Lupin had reacted to the news that Snape would be tampering with the Wolfsbane Potion on Voldemort's orders. Still, the upheaval that he'd felt after leaving her office hadn't compared with the outright rage that Hermione spun into when he'd told her what had happened.

She sighed and leant her forehead against his chest while he raked his fingers through her hair. "I'm mad," she said with a pout.

"I know."

"It's not fair."

"It's not."

She looked up at him, eyes wet. "First Harry's being used as some kind of . . . I don't even know. Soldier? Weapon? And now Voldemort's trying to get to Dumbledore through you. Maybe I can—"

He tightened his grip on her. "I know you're trying to learn how to become an Animagus, and while I appreciate the idea, I do," he insisted, "please don't do something foolish like rush the process in a week so that you can spend the full moon with me." His memory flickered back to the conversation he'd had with James, Sirius, and Peter. Hermione was just as stubborn as they were, if not more. He knew it was a losing battle to argue with her about the idea. "If anything happened to you . . . Hermione . . ."

She stood up on the tips of her toes and placed a kiss on his forehead. "I was going to say, maybe I can learn how to brew Wolfsbane Potion. Then Snape could tell Voldemort that he's not the one making it for you, and so it would be pointless. Or he could just say nothing and let Voldemort think that he'd done it."

His brow furrowed in thought. "I'm to understand that the potion is difficult."

"Well," Hermione began with an indignant scoff, "I know that I'm not quite the potion's prodigy that Harry is with his fancy stolen book of cheating secrets, but I'll have you know that—Mphf!" She grinned against his mouth when he slanted it over her own, kissing the words right out of her mouth with obvious gratitude.

"Ugh, I'd ask if this was a werewolf thing, but Ron and Lavender are just as bad most days."

Hermione grumbled when Remus pulled away from her to look at Harry, standing there with a smirk on his face as though he knew exactly how annoyed she was that he'd interrupted them. She rolled her eyes at her best friend. "Oh, like you and Luna are any different."

Harry's mouth fell open in objection. "We  _are_! While the four of you sit up in the common room snogging, I'm down in the forests feeding raw meat to thestrals with my girlfriend. Not the most romantic place in the world."

"I think, for Luna, it might be," Hermione said with a laugh.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. She's barmy," he said, affection lighting up his eyes.

Remus grinned. "You love her."

"Shut up," Harry ordered, stepping closer to the couple to look behind them at the magical door in the wall where the rest of Dumbledore's Army, Slytherins included, were supposedly still training. "How's it going in there?"

Remus turned and looked at the door himself, as though he could see through it. "They were working on Patronuses again before we left to talk. What's happening with Dumbledore?" He asked, returning his attention to Harry. "Hermione said you were called in for another meeting tonight?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. He told me that McGonagall was telling you about . . . about what Snape has to do," he said, his tone full of guilt and anger.

"I'll be fine."

"This is my fault," Harry muttered, shaking his head.

Hermione sighed. "Harry—"

"He's going after my friends now, Hermione," the boy insisted, looking up at her. "If anything happens to you, or Remus, or Ron . . . any of the Weasleys . . . I still have to worry about Sirius, and now Luna—"

Remus put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "We're in this together, mate. We'll be all right. I'll be okay for the full moon; it's not like it'll be my first. Just do me a favour and keep Hermione from doing something stupid like turning herself into an Animagus too early."

Green eyes widened. "How'd you find out that we were—"

" _We_?"

Harry swallowed and purposely avoided looking at Hermione, who was pinching the bridge of her nose and groaning. "Er . . .  _she_?" he offered.

Remus unknowingly mimicked Hermione's actions, rubbing his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Harry . . . I was led to believe that you were just like James but with at least a portion of Lily's brain! Do you know how dangerous it is to—"

"Dumbledore destroyed the Horcrux thing you found!" Harry blurted out, changing the subject.

It worked. Remus's eyes widened and Hermione looked up, gripping his arms. "What? Wait, don't change the—"

"Shut up, Remus. Harry, he destroyed it? It's gone? What does that mean? What did he destroy it with? Does this mean that we can—"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know what it means. But he thinks that Voldemort's got more. That's what Slughorn knows. That memory Dumbledore wants me to get for him. He thinks that maybe Voldemort told Slughorn how many he was planning on making."

"Harry, you  _have_ to get that memory!" Hermione screeched.

"I know, I know," he said with a defeated groan, "but the man's not exactly being open about it, is he?  _Dumbledore_ can't even get him to talk about it."

"He must be determined to hide what really happened if Dumbledore couldn't get it out of him," Hermione said, deep in thought. "I think it's going to be difficult to get the information, Harry, you'll have to be very careful about how you approach Slughorn, think out a strategy." Before any of them could come up with a proper idea, however, the door to the Room of Requirement opened and students began pouring out of it.

Most were laughing, but Seamus was positively steaming with anger. "Bloody fucking . . . damned . . . snakes!"

Harry quirked a brow. "Seamus? What happened?"

Seamus spun and pointed his finger in Harry's chest. " _You_  let Slytherins into Dumbledore's Army!  _That's_ what bloody happened! Someone take my wand, I don't wanna live in this world anymore!" he said dramatically, passing his wand purposely into Dean's outstretched hand before stomping down the corridor in a huff.

Dean and Ginny were chuckling, the latter leaning against her boyfriend for support, her giggles nearly causing her to collapse. "Ignore him," Dean told Harry with an amused grin. "He's being dramatic."

Ginny snorted. "He's being a baby."

Hermione looked into the room curiously. "What did we miss?"

"Only the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life," Ron told her as he and Lavender came out together. The gold necklace that hung from his neck glinted in the torchlight. "Seamus lost money to Dean and me when he bet that Slytherins couldn't produce Patronuses."

Harry's eyes widened with intrigue. "Someone did it? Was it Malfoy?" he asked, his nose scrunching up into a grimace. "Oh Merlin, it's not a dragon, is it? Is it a ferret? Oh, please let it be a ferret."

Draco scoffed as he walked out of the room, Theo beside him, with Pansy following behind. "In your dreams, Potter. No, it wasn't me."

The Slytherin witch grinned smugly, head held high as her heels clicked on the floor. A silvery, spectral Siamese cat walked primly at her side, it's nose in the air. "I don't see what the big deal is," she said. "It's not like it was even that difficult."

Remus smiled at the sight. "That's brilliant."

Ron laughed. "Hey, Parkinson, did you know that you can learn to send Patronuses around like messengers? We haven't yet figured out how to make them speak, but I bet you could have yours follow Seamus around for a while."

Pansy's eyes flashed with mischievous delight. "I'll keep that in mind."

When she turned the corner, Harry looked up at Draco. "A cat?"

The blond grinned. "She's got claws. If you have doubts, I could show you the scars she's left on my back."

Hermione blanched at the thought. "Ew. Can you not be so crass?"

Draco scoffed. "Says the witch who's fornicating in the corridor with her werewolf."

* * *

**March 1st, 1997**

"Do you think he'll be okay with my present this year? It is a book." Hermione looked down at the small text in her hand, wondering again if she should wrap it and give Ron false hope that she'd purchased him something different. The red bow in the corner seemed sufficient enough, but she was questioning her judgement ever since the boys had both cringed when she'd bought them homework planners.

Remus stared at the book on Animagus meditations and exercises and sighed. "Are you three really doing this?"

"Yes," she said, nodding firmly. "And both Harry and Ron have been with me the whole way. Neville even helped."

Remus blinked, surprised. "Neville?"

"What did I do?"

Hermione and Remus turned to watch their friend bouncing down the stairs from the dormitories, his tie slightly askew before he stumbled over the last step. "I meant with the mandrake leaves," Hermione clarified. "He helped speed the process along."

Neville blushed and then grinned at Remus, looking only slightly guilty for keeping the secret from his friend. "Oh, that. Yeah er . . . sorry, Remus. She made me promise."

Remus gave a short laugh. "I bet. Where're Ron and Harry?"

"Ron's still digging through all his birthday sweets," Neville said, lazily gesturing up the stairs. "Last I saw, Harry was trying to convince him not to eat a whole package of Ice Mice. He's already gone through the rest of it."

Hermione made a face. "Charming," she said, rolling her eyes. "Neville, do you think that Ron will like this book for his birthday? It's on Animagi. I wanted to kind of show him that . . . well, that I really believe he can do it if he tries very hard and actually does the work."

Neville took the book from her and looked through the first few pages, smiling at the post-it note on the inside with a personal message of encouragement. "I think it's brilliant, Hermione," he said. "Just make sure to explain the sentiment. See you both at breakfast?"

Remus nodded. "We'll be right behind you."

As the portrait closed behind Neville, Hermione let out a sigh of relief. "I feel better now."

"Do the three of you know what your forms are yet?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip and then leant into Remus as they sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace. "I . . . I  _thought_ I did but . . . now I'm not sure. Generally, you take the form that your Patronus takes."

Remus thought for a moment. "Not always," he said. "At least . . . from what I've read."

"True," she said, nodding. "Since mine changed though . . ."

He frowned. "Are you . . . are you afraid of being a wolf?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She looked up at him and sighed. "No. Not at all. If anything, I almost feel like I'm betraying my little otter," she said, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. "I know it's just a magical representation but . . . it felt almost like a pet. Still, if my form were a wolf, that would probably be preferable right? Is it easier when the animals you interact with are large?"

"Sometimes," he said thoughtfully. "I don't remember much, but James, Sirius, and Peter always told me what happened afterward and then the memories sort of . . . clicked into place, you know? Honestly, I think Moony got along with Peter best at first since he was the least threatening. Padfoot was a canine and I think Moony considered him a threat, at least that first night. Prongs was so damn big. I mean huge, Hermione. Have you ever seen a deer up close?"

She grinned, listening to him talk about his old life with amusement instead of grief. "Just Harry's Patronus."

"It's about  _that_ big."

Her smile slowly died away, replaced with worry. Her lessons with Slughorn were going well so far, but the professor was taking his sweet time with it as though Hermione wasn't on a deadline. Remus had already spent one full moon without the Wolfsbane Potion since Snape had begun tampering with it on purpose. While, of course, no one had been injured like Voldemort had hoped for, Remus still spent the majority of the day in the Hospital Wing, in a great deal of pain and nursing wounds that would not have been there had he been on a proper potion for his illness. When she, Neville, Harry, and Ron had visited him the morning following the full moon, she'd accidentally set the window drapes on fire with an outburst of anger-induced accidental magic. "Do you think you'll be okay? If Harry's form is . . . is a stag like his father?"

Remus smiled down at her and then kissed the top of her head. "There will be a difference. Harry looks like James, but he's not James. He's got Lily's eyes and . . . he's his own person. I'm sure he'll be his own—"

"Animal?" she suggested.

"Cheeky."

"Ron might be a dog."

"Yeah, but . . . that thing is tiny," Remus said in reference to Ron's Terrier Patronus. "It's no Padfoot." The Grim had been something that Moony felt he needed to force submission from; a Terrier was . . . a snack. "It . . . I didn't want to encourage you, because of how dangerous it is. But . . . I do miss it. Having a pack," he admitted. "Not being alone."

She scratched her nails against the stubble of his cheek affectionately. "We'll be with you soon enough. And then every full moon for the rest of our lives." At his suddenly intense look, she flushed. "I mean . . . because . . . you know, because we'd never abandon you and because you're—"

The moment was interrupted just as Remus leant down to capture her lips. "Umm . . . Remus?" came Harry's nervous voice from the staircase. "I need your help."

He looked up at his friend. "Everything all right?"

Harry scratched the back of his neck. "No, it's . . . well, it's Ron."

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, standing and running her hands down her skirt to smooth out any wrinkles. "Did he eat too many sweets?"

Harry winced. "Hermione, can you just . . . stay down here and maybe distract Lavender if she comes looking for him?"

Worried from the serious tone that Harry had taken, Hermione's eyes widened. "What happened?"

Laughing awkwardly, Harry shook his head. "He  _really_ wouldn't want her to see him like this. I honestly wish  _I_  hadn't seen him like this."

Remus kissed Hermione's cheek before following Harry back up the stairs, eyebrows rising nearly to his hairline in shock at the sight of Ron hanging upside-down between the beds, fighting the Levicorpus with all his might. His face was red and his eyes were dilated. "You let me down from here, Harry! And give me back my wand! You just want her for yourself, don't you! Selfish! Always have to have everything. You've got Luna but you still want my Romilda!"

Confused, Remus glanced at Harry, who closed the door behind them, casting a Silencing Charm on the room. "Romilda?"

Harry sighed. "The  _birthday boy_  here thought a package of Cauldron Cakes under  _my_ bed were a present that fell on the floor," he explained. "Romilda gave them to me for Christmas, but I didn't eat them because everyone's been warning me off taking things from people, especially her. I could kill Fred and George for selling Love Potions in their shop."

Remus almost laughed. "Oh, Hermione's going to hex that girl the next time she sees her."

"Can you help me get him to Slughorn?" Harry asked. "Maybe he'll know what to do."

"No hints from The Prince?" Remus asked sarcastically.

"Shut up."

"Don't worry, Harry," he said, laughing as he made his way across the room, ducking when Ron reached out to grab at him for leverage in an attempt to get down. Remus knelt down in front of his trunk and began digging through it. "I've got a plan."

"Remus,  _you_ know Romilda," Ron said, turning mid-air to look at his friend with pleading eyes. "She was nice to you, right? Are you friends? Can you introduce me? I love her, y'see, and I need to tell her right away. What are you looking for? Is she in your trunk? Do you have her stashed away?"

"Oh for the love of . . .  _Silencio_!" Remus said, flicking his wand at the redhead.

Harry frowned. "Why didn't  _I_  think of that?"

"At least you took his wand away. People on Love Potions are unpredictable."

Raising a brow, Harry grinned. "How would  _you_ know?"

Remus snorted. "Because Sirius started getting drugged with them at the beginning of third year," he explained. "We hadn't covered the antidote in Potions at the time and had to come up with one of our own since he ended up making a fool of himself. When the Slytherins found out he was so easily tricked into drinking things, they started doing it to prank him. He once ended up outside the castle in a rainstorm wearing nothing but pink socks and a top hat."

Harry covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing. "Seriously?! What slimy Slytherin did that to him?"

"James, actually," Remus said, grinning broadly at the memory.

Harry's mouth fell open in shock. "Do I want to know why my father did that?"

"Sirius might have made a comment about if James wasn't going to ask Lily to Hogsmeade, then  _he_ was going to," Remus said, fondly recalling the argument between his friends. "And then put a Hair Loss Potion in James's porridge and . . . look, it wasn't pretty. I likely lost years of my life due to the stress of keeping them from getting expelled. Here it is!" He stood back up, a red phial in his hands.

"You keep a Love Potion antidote in your trunk?" Harry asked.

Remus shrugged. "Habit. I've got the makings of a lot of things in this trunk thanks to Sirius and James. And it's not an antidote  _exactly_. It's a modified Hate Potion." At Harry's horrified stare, Remus smiled. "Like I said, we had to figure things out on our own most times. It'll counteract the effects of the Love Potion, but he'll get pretty sick. We'll still need to take him to the Infirmary, but at least he won't start spouting poetry in the middle of the halls or attempt to take his clothes off."

Harry sighed and took the phial Remus held out to him. He uncorked it and tipped it upside-down into Ron's mouth. "Bloody hell. Drink this, you great git."

Remus winced as Ron swallowed the potion. "You're going to want to take him down from there, Harry."

Ron blinked just as Harry reversed the charm, lowering him to the ground as softly as possible, which ultimately wasn't very as he collapsed with a loud thud. "Harry? Re—what happened?" Ron asked, eyelids heavy.

"How're you feeling?" Remus asked, concerned.

"Bit dizzy."

Harry smirked. "Still in love with Romilda?"

Ron looked up at his friends, confused. "Romil—" he began, just as his face turned green.

* * *

"Here's your homework for the day," Hermione said smugly as she dropped several books and a roll of parchment on the table next to Ron's bed in the Hospital Wing.

He glared at the stack as though it had dragon pox. "Today's Saturday, 'Mione."

"You're still behind in Transfiguration and Charms. Considering what we're trying to do for Remus, you can't afford to miss anything in Transfiguration," she insisted. "That reminds me, did you like your present?"

Ron smiled. "It's great, 'Mione. Thanks."

She grinned at his reply, clearly relieved that the book had actually gone over well with him. Then again, after a morning spent upside-down in love with someone that wasn't your girlfriend, and an afternoon of vomiting purple bubbles in the Infirmary, a book was the least of his problems.

"Hey, feeling any better?" Remus asked, rapping his knuckles against the partition that wrapped around Ron's bed.

The redhead smiled. "A bit. Thanks for this morning. Harry said I was a bit . . . barmy."

Remus chuckled. "Something like that. Think nothing of it; I've seen much worse." He looked down at Hermione, affectionately twirling a curl of her hair around his finger. "You going to make it for dinner?"

She shook her head. "I thought I'd stay and keep Ron company."

Remus nodded. "Want me to bring you something?"

"Mmm . . ." She leant her cheek into his palm and batted her eyelashes up at him. "I'll give you the rest of my Honeydukes chocolate if you bring me a slice of apple tart."

Grinning, he bent down and kissed her chastely on the lips. "You're perfect. I love you," he said as she laughed at him. Standing back up straight, he tossed a wave to Ron. "Feel better, mate."

Ron watched as Hermione stared after Remus, a dopey grin on her face. When she let out a contented sigh the second that the door closed behind her boyfriend, Ron burst into laughter and she turned back as though she'd forgotten that she wasn't alone in the room.

Her eyes narrowed defensively. "What?"

"All . . . sappy for Remus," he teased.

"Shut it, you," she said, reaching forward and tugging at a strand of his hair that was growing much too long for her liking. "From what I heard, you were quite sappy for Romilda Vane this morning."

He groaned and scrubbed his hands down his face. "Merlin . . . I'm so glad Lavender didn't see me."

"I didn't tell her what really happened," Hermione said with a soft smile. "She thinks Fred and George sneaked one of their Puking Pastilles into a birthday cupcake."

"Thanks," he said, relieved. "Do you think I should tell her?"

"Why?"

"Dunno." He shrugged. "Seems stupid to keep secrets. What if someone else found out and she heard it from them? What if she thought I'd not swallowed a potioned Cauldron Cake but actually thought about Romilda from time to time?"

Hermione raised a brow. "Do you?"

"'Course not," Ron replied. "It's . . . I've only ever thought about . . . well, two girls really, my whole life." The tops of his ears turned bright red and he cleared his throat before being able to look at her again. "Remus set me straight on one of them. The other is Lavender."

Smiling, Hermione chose to ignore the reference to their short-lived, awkward crush on one another. "What about Fleur?"

"Veela," he said. "Doesn't count."

Hermione caught him eying a stack of sweets that Lavender had dropped off earlier. She rolled her eyes and reached for the box, popping it open and ignoring the way he suddenly seemed all of eleven again as she held out a small chocolate covered orange for him. "You should tell her then," she said as Ron devoured the sweet. "I think she'd understand as long as you explained everything."

Ron nodded thoughtfully, swallowing, his expression turned serious. "I just . . . never mind."

"What?"

"No, it sounds stupid."

"Ronald!"

He sighed and awkwardly picked at the frayed edges of the bed sheet. "I want what you and Remus have, all right? Jeez."

Hermione beamed at her friend brightly, her smile stretching across her face with happiness for him. "Ron, do you love Lavender?"

He shrugged as though it were no big deal to be in love. "I reckon so, yeah. She was a bit . . . much at first, y'know? But it's nice. Having someone want to be around you so much that it makes them kind of . . . mental. Makes you want to do nice things for them."

"Like tell them the truth."

He snorted. "Like become an Animagus."

* * *

**March 24th, 1997**

Because Ron's birthday had been so terrible, when Remus's birthday came less than two weeks later, he insisted on putting it off for another month, insisting that everyone could celebrate together when they all went home for Easter hols. He thought it would be in poor taste to celebrate his own coming of age since his friend had spent his seventeenth birthday in the Infirmary. It helped that his birthday fell on a Monday, and on a week when Harry had several meetings scheduled with Dumbledore; not to mention Hermione had somehow tricked Slughorn into teaching her how to brew Wolfsbane Potion.

"Just don't let Professor Snape know I'm teaching you something so advanced," the plump wizard had said. "He was quite adamant that  _he_ be the one to brew for young Mister Lupin. I think he's still a bit envious that he was pushed aside so that the Headmaster could offer me my old position back."

Hermione had just smiled and crossed her heart, promising that she'd never say a word to Professor Snape about the Wolfsbane Potion.

The tampered potion that Snape gave him that month was easy to vanish with a wandless non-verbal  _Evanesco_ , and it helped that the Potion's Master didn't pay Remus much attention while he drank from the steaming goblet presented to him. Remus would thank the man, who would sneer in reply, and then meet Hermione in the common room, where she presented him with a  _properly_ brewed potion that neither Snape nor Voldemort nor even Dumbledore knew about.

"How is it?" she asked nervously every night leading up to the full moon.

" _Tastes_  right," Remus replied, trying to control his gag reflex as he swallowed down every drop.

Hermione frowned. "I know I did it correctly, but Professor Slughorn's ingredients are all dried and subpar at best. Professor Snape always used fresh but—"

"It's better than nothing at all. Thank you, love."

The trip to the Shrieking Shack was normal, and Remus pretended to be more affected by the rising moon since only he, his friends, and possibly Slughorn knew that the Wolfsbane Potion he was on wasn't the tampered version. Once alone, he began undressing, feeling the usual itch and ache in his limbs that came every month. He smiled when the stag, wolf, and terrier Patronuses joined him as they did every month, at least for the first little while before the charm vanished.

It was seconds before moon rise when he smelled it.

Something familiar, something lingering somewhere in the back of his brain. Focused on pinpointing what it was, Remus was surprised when he began to feel the protective wards around the shack being infiltrated. They were meant to keep him in, after all, not keep anything else out. Panicked, he reached for his wand in hopes that he could counteract whoever was trying to poke a hole through his security, but a lashing pain struck him hard enough that he fell to his knees as the transformation began to take place.

He screamed and struggled as his bones broke, as his muscles tore and reformed themselves. His face contorted painfully, reshaping itself into a snout. The very second that his eye shifted gold, he knew what that smell was and why it had been so familiar.

" _Voldemort held the wand," Sirius had told him, "but Peter killed Lily and James."_

Wormtail.

Uncontrollable rage filled him at the smell of the rat—human, at least for now—just outside of the shack. The man who had been his friend, who had stayed with him month after month in this very shack, who had shared a room with him at Hogwarts for years, who had betrayed his friends, killed Lily and James, and framed Sirius for murder. Filled with bloodlust that was not diminished in the slightest thanks to the full moon, a weaker version of Wolfsbane Potion, and the bitter emotions fuelled by grief, Moony threw his body at the walls of the shack as hard as possible. The wood splintered and he clawed at the broken pieces, never before left with such a desire to get out of the enclosure.

Wards wrapped around the shack were damn near unbreakable, but they were crackable, and that's exactly what Peter had done. Voldemort hadn't come at the shack with a boulder, he'd sent in a tiny rock to chip away at the corners and weak spots, enough to crack them just so. They shattered along with his shoulder when Moony dove through a broken spot in the wall, locking eyes with a newly shifted rat on the other side.

He pounced without thought, claws out and teeth bared with the full intent of devouring his enemy, blood pumping so hard that it sounded like war drums in his mind. The rat skittered away, running under rocks and down through holes in the ground that were once homes to other rodents and snakes. Moony followed him, growling and clawing at the ground as Wormtail sped away, leading him unknowingly back toward Hogwarts.

Just as the grounds of the castle came into clear view, Moony saw the rat shift and grow and turn into a man. Had he been in his right mind—his human mind—completely, Remus would have stared in horror at the person that his childhood friend had become. Twelve years as a rat had left Peter Pettigrew looking more beast-like than man, a shrivelled ghost of his former self, with a silver hand that Harry had explained had been a sacrifice to bring back Voldemort. Moony rushed forward, delighting in the smell of terror that he could practically taste in the back of his throat coming off of Pettigrew, but before he had a chance to sink his teeth into flesh, the man Disapparated away from sight, taking his scent with him.

Shaking and unable to convince the beastly part of his mind to turn back toward the protection of the shack, Moony put his nose to the air and inhaled deeply, overwhelmed by a flood of smells coming from the castle. People. Humans. Children. So . . . so very many. He paced back and forth, clenching his jaws as he fought the primal urges that he wanted to release on the unsuspecting castle. His will was undone by the damage that Peter's presence had caused and, Wolfsbane or not, Moony was on the hunt as Remus screamed inside, pleading for something— _anything_ —to stop him from reaching the entrance.

His silent prayers were answered when he heard someone yell, "Hey! Over here!" and Moony turned at the sound and smell of human. Remus screamed again as paws touched earth and sped forward toward the Forbidden Forest, his form swallowed by the shadows within it.

The lingering scent was still in the air as he sniffed, searching out whoever had distracted him from the feast within the castle walls. Remus struggled from within, and the conflict between man and wolf was enough to distract Moony from the presence of something near, something bigger than he was, creeping up from behind him. The wolf turned and bared his teeth at the beast in front of him. The monster stood on its hind legs, towering over Moony. Thick brown fur covered a body that was easily twice as tall as Prongs had been and at least double the weight of Padfoot. Moony still growled as the giant bear roared, positioning its body in front of the pathway that led out of the forest and toward the castle.

Moony took one step forward and it was enough of a threat that the bear came down on him with the force of several stunners, its massive paw striking the wolf across the face, sending Moony flying backward into the heavy trunk of a tree. Disoriented, Remus felt a mixture of terror and relief as the bear approached him, just as blackness swallowed his consciousness.

* * *

**March 25th, 1997**

When sunlight split through the trees of the Forbidden Forest the following morning, Remus cried out as his body reformed itself into its human shape, leaving him battered and bruised, his shoulder clearly broken. He was surprised that his jaw hadn't become unhinged after his attack, but assumed that his werewolf healing had helped with that aspect. At the memory of the bear, Remus opened his eyes and looked around, shocked that he hadn't been devoured in the night.

When his now green eyes settled on the sight in front of him, he understood why.

"Feeling better?"

Remus's mouth hung open in utter shock.

"Neville?!"

His friend smiled awkwardly and waved, brown hair mussed, the same colour as the bear's fur. "Surprise?"


	35. Chapter 35

**March 25th, 1997**

Remus gaped at his friend, who looked embarrassed. Embarrassed for having turned into a bear. Remus recalled the reactions of his other Animagus friends when he'd seen their transformations. They'd been elated. As though they'd planned the most amazing surprise party and had somehow gotten away with it. Neville looked like he'd been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin. For being a bear.

"How?"

Awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, Neville shrugged. "I dunno. I mean . . . I'd been doing the meditations and exercises for a while when I wasn't at Hogwarts. I know some parents let their kids get away with the Underage Magic Restriction since the Ministry can't track it in magical households, but my gran's pretty strict about it," he said, letting out a slightly bitter huff that he tried to disguise as a heavy exhale. "It was this or gardening and eventually I ran out of things to plant."

When Remus laughed, Neville finally relaxed and chuckled. "I didn't even think I could do it until I got my own wand last summer. Made my first real shift a week into term. When Hermione started asking about the mandrake leaves, I thought she knew."

Shaking his head, Remus leant back against the tree behind him for support. He still ached something fierce from the fight. "She didn't. But then . . . why didn't you tell her?"

Ears and cheeks both suddenly pink—and not from the cold early morning chill—Neville cleared his throat. "Honestly? At first, it was because I kind of enjoyed having a secret, plus it helped that there are few things any of us is able to do that Hermione can't. Then, well . . . you've seen how she's been ever since Harry started getting better marks than her in Potions. I didn't want to be on the end of her wand."

Smiling, Remus wondered what Hermione would have to say about this. He worried that she'd rush into her own Animagus training. Harry had mentioned what she'd been like the previous year during O.W.L.s, not to mention the minor temper tantrums she'd thrown when other people got the Patronus Charm before her in Dumbledore's Army. There had once been talk of her throwing a crystal ball at Professor Trelawney and storming out of her classroom, but Remus had assumed only half of that was true.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, picking out a few twigs that were stuck. "Why were you out here, Neville?"

"I umm . . . I come out here every month."

Looking up at his friend with wide eyes, Remus's mouth fell open in shock. "What?"

" _Every month, Moony," James had said to him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We all took a vote and we decided you'll never be alone for the full moon again. One of us will always be with you. Every month."_

Neville looked down at the ground and began picking away at a few small rocks that had been tossed around during their scuffle last night, clearing them away so the small budding plants beneath could grow without any hurdles. "Hermione said that . . . well, isn't that why she, Ron, and Harry are becoming Animagi?" he asked, finally looking back up at Remus. "I wasn't sure how to tell you . . . but I didn't want you to be alone. So I come out here and watch the shack in the distance. You know . . . just in case."

Remus swallowed. "I . . . thank you. Neville, if you hadn't been here—"

"How's your face?" Neville asked, interrupting what was surely going to be one of Remus's famed self-deprecating speeches of how he could have killed or infected someone and what a monster he truly was.

Remus laughed and rubbed his jaw. "Sore. You pack a punch."

Neville grinned. "Sorry," he said, not looking very sorry at all. The boy who'd been bullied by students and teachers alike had the ability to turn himself into a massive bear. Neville actually looked quite proud of himself. "I didn't know what else to do. I saw you coming and . . . was it . . . Peter Pettigrew?"

The smile fell from Remus's face, and the warmth in his gut put there by his new friend was quickly replaced by a sick feeling of rage at the thought of his old friend. "Yeah. That was him," he replied darkly. "I don't think Snape knew. Last month, when I didn't break out, Voldemort probably figured that Dumbledore had done something to keep me locked in the shack. Peter knew just how to break through the wards since . . . hell, he'd spent almost as much time in that shack as I did."

"We should tell Dumbledore," Neville said as he pushed himself to his feet. He took off his outer robes and handed them over to Remus, since he had no clothing of his own. "Everything's back in the Shrieking Shack. I can go and get it for you once I get you to the hospital wing."

Remus took the robes, glad that Harry hadn't been the one to be there that night, considering his robes likely wouldn't fit Remus's taller frame. "They're probably already looking for me," he said, wincing as the fabric caught on a particularly painful open wound. He sighed in exhaustion knowing that Hermione would throw a fit over it. "Madam Pomfrey usually meets me at the entrance to the Whomping Willow. What're we going to say?"

"The truth," Neville replied, grasping Remus's hand and pulling him up, wrapping a gentle arm around his waist to help him balance. "I mean . . . I didn't plan on it staying a secret. And I'll have to register anyway." His face paled and he looked at Remus with wide, terrified eyes. "Do you think Dumbledore's going to be angry with me?"

Remus snorted. "Dumbledore? No. I wouldn't put it past McGonagall, though."

* * *

Hermione was practically vibrating when they showed up in the infirmary. He could tell that she wanted to run to him and wrap her arms around his neck but held back considering the awful state he was in. "Remus! Merlin, we came to the hospital wing, and you weren't here, and I—Neville?"

Harry and Ron were at her sides, and Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey, and Professor McGonagall stood near the mediwitch's office. When Neville and Remus walked through the door, everyone jumped and strode quickly toward them until Neville held up a hand to stop them from getting too close. Helping Remus into a nearby bed, he avoided the strange looks that everyone was giving him as best he could. "Umm . . . everyone should probably sit down."

A few minutes later, everyone knew the story of what had happened and they were all taking it in stride. Madam Pomfrey had scarcely blinked twice at Neville, too focused on getting potions down Remus's throat. Ron looked gobsmacked, Hermione concerned, and Harry guilty—likely blaming himself for Pettigrew's involvement. McGonagall looked, ironically, like an angry cat with her eyes shaped into slits and her fists clenched tightly, as though she were containing claws.

Dumbledore, however, twinkled. "Well, we owe you a great deal of thanks, Mister Longbottom. I think this deserves at least twenty points to Gryffindor."

McGonagall shot the old man a look, her narrowed eyes flashing open angrily. "Twenty—Albus! He . . ." She fumed, shaking in place. "Oh, never mind! Longbottom!" she snapped and Neville looked up at her, clamping his lips shut so that if he accidentally vomited from fear, it wouldn't end up on her dress. "Remedial Transfiguration every Thursday evening until you're caught up with the lessons. I fully expect you to be in my N.E.W.T. class for your final year and, lad, if you earn anything less than an Exceeds Expectations, I'll have you as a rug."

The boy's mouth fell open in shock and his nose twitched a bit when Remus let out a small chuckle at his expense. "Yes, ma'am," he said sheepishly.

Madam Pomfrey said they could all stay for a few minutes but that Remus needed to rest for the remainder of the day as she needed to reset his shoulder and mend a few other bones that Neville may or may not have actually fractured the night before. Dumbledore patted Neville on the shoulder before following McGonagall out of the infirmary.

Ron spun on Neville. "A bear?" he asked, blue eyes bright with amusement and intrigue. "Really? Is that what your Patronus is?"

Neville grinned shyly. "Yeah. I'm usually too nervous when I cast, though, so it just looks like a big . . . blob . . . thing."

"A bear, though?"

Harry smirked. "Let it go, Ron."

"Well, what happens when we eventually shift into  _our_ forms?" the redhead asked. "A bear'll likely stomp all over a little dog like me!" he exclaimed. "At least you'll have . . . you know, antlers." Ron brought his hands up to his head, fingers splayed out to look like a stag but ended up looking more like a ginger moose than anything else.

"I don't think they'd be much defence," Remus said with a small laugh, squeezing Hermione's hand and ignoring the way that she was counting the marks she could see on his body. "Neville's enormous. Bigger than Moony. Definitely taller than Prongs was. Sirius will likely throw a fit about it."

Harry and Ron both laughed, and Neville's face turned bright red. He looked down and smiled, very unused to such praise from his peers.

Hermione's soft voice broke through the light mood. "That was so dangerous, Neville."

He looked over at her and frowned. "I know," he said, "but . . . you would have done it for—"

"Thank you," she said and stood, letting go of her boyfriend's hand so that she could wrap Neville in a tight, grateful hug, "for keeping Remus safe."

Neville's feet shuffled a bit as he hesitantly returned the hug. When she released him and looked up at his face with a beaming smile, he let out a soft laugh and then shrugged. "He's my best friend. Kind of my job."

* * *

"A bear?"

Minerva was left behind at Hogwarts while Dumbledore spoke with Lupin and Sirius in person since it was of the utmost importance to inform the Order—those two especially—of the events during the previous night's full moon. It was also important to leave Minerva behind at the school because she's mentioned once or twice about a very desperate need to neuter a certain black dog for setting a poor example for future generations of Animagi.

Dumbledore smiled at the way Sirius's jaw slacked and he rapidly blinked at the news. "Indeed."

Lupin took several tries to audibly react to the news, but ended up stuttering more than once before he was finally able to blurt out, "A . . . a bear?!"

Sirius grinned, eyes lit with mischief. "He needs a nickname."

Lupin sighed and began with a sharp tone, saying, "Sirius, I don't think that—"

"Fuzzy? Yogi?"

"Sirius—"

"Teddy!"

"That's what Dora and I are naming the baby, idiot. Now shut up," Remus snapped, raising his voice. The tense and sore muscles of his shoulders relaxed only slightly as he turned his attention back to Dumbledore. "So what are we going to do about the shack? You're certain it was Peter?"

Dumbledore nodded his head and gave Lupin an understanding smile that was filled with sympathy. "Young Remus assured me himself. Mister Longbottom saw Mister Pettigrew as well, albeit from a distance."

"That rotten little shit," Sirius growled low, clenching his fists, his nostrils flaring.

"Suffice it to say, another arrangement is being made for Remus's monthly transformation. Miss Granger has assured me that she can create something suitable within the Room of Requirement." Both Lupin and Sirius blinked and then shared a look where each silently communicated a mixture of concern that Remus would be inside the school during a transformation, and slight humiliation that neither of them had thought of it themselves. "Mister Longbottom will spend the full moon with young Remus, and they will both be locked within the protected room. I honestly don't know why I didn't think of it before."

"And it's safe?" Lupin asked.

"It is," Dumbledore assured him. "Neither Peter Pettigrew nor any Death Eater will infiltrate Hogwarts."

Sirius sat forward, folding his hands on the table and staring down Dumbledore, his eyes alert and his jaw set. "Speaking of Death Eaters in Hogwarts, why didn't Snape know about this?"

Dumbledore's smile faded rather quickly. "We are . . . unsure."

Lupin tapped his finger on the table nervously. "Voldemort's not trusting him with everything. He's losing, and he's blaming Snape, isn't he?"

"He is. I believe that Severus will very soon have to prove his false loyalty to Voldemort," Dumbledore said and, at Sirius's look of concern, he continued, "Can I count on the pair of you to keep the Order strong, and Harry on the right path when that moment comes?"

Sirius's brows drew together and he opened his mouth to say something, but Lupin held up a hand. He stared across the table at the older wizard, his eyes narrowed in confusion. "What are you not telling us?"

Dumbledore sighed in resignation. "A great many things, I'm afraid, my boy. A great many things."

* * *

**April 21st, 1997**

Harry, Hermione, and Remus made their way swiftly to number twelve, Grimmauld Place, ready and eager to spend a week away from Hogwarts, enjoying their Easter hols. The full moon was the following night, and it would be the first that Neville would join Sirius and the Lupin werewolves. A missive had been sent to Madam Longbottom, informing her that her grandson had been enrolled late in remedial Advanced Transfiguration classes with McGonagall, and the older witch had been more than happy to let Neville stay behind at Hogwarts, or so she thought. Unfortunately for the new Animagus, he actually  _was_ spending the majority of the week catching up with the professor but was given leave to Floo to Grimmauld Place for the full moon.

Exhausted, thanks to symptoms from his lycanthropy, Remus fell into bed the moment they stepped through the doors, taking Hermione with him.

"Hermione's parents are all right with her staying here?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded, not meeting his godfather's eyes. "Sure," he lied. "Besides, Hermione and Remus are both of age now. Not much anyone can do to stop them. Hey, where's Lupin?"

Sirius's smile faded just a touch. "Checking in with some werewolf contacts. A mother and her kids agreed to leave Greyback's camp, and he's helping them set up a proper safe house with full moon wards. He'll be back later tonight. Tonks is sleeping upstairs." He walked to his godson's side, putting an arm around the boy's shoulder. "It's good to have the whole family here."

Harry grinned at the word "family".

"So, how's the Animagus training going?"

Following his godfather into the next room, Harry threw down his bookbag—which was mostly filled with leftover sweets from the train—and fell into an armchair. "Decent," he said, "Hermione's done a full transformation, or so she says. Ever since we found out about Neville, she's been taking time in between classes for extra meditation. I think she shifted in the girls' bathroom."

Sirius laughed loudly. "My first shift was in our dorm," he said. "Scared the piss outta Moony. It was the middle of the night and I might've jumped on him while he was sleeping."

Harry beamed at the story. "What about my dad?"

Sirius thought for a moment. "Out in the forest for the first time," he said, "but once he drank too much firewhisky after N.E.W.T. exams, not thinking that he'd scheduled a Quidditch practice that afternoon. He got sick on the way to the pitch, so the whole team told him to get in a shower and sober up. He was gone for so long, that I was sent to fetch him, and found a deer in the middle of the bath, drunk, with the broken shower head stuck in his antlers. It was grand."

Instinctively, Harry touched his head during the story while laughing. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Sirius smiled. "So, you'll be Prongs the second, yeah?"

Harry shrugged, colour rising to his cheeks as he smiled. "Guess so. Might think about a new nickname, though. We've already decided to call Ron, Nipper. He's not pleased with it."

Grinning as he poured himself two fingers of scotch, Sirius said, "You think Wormtail had a say in his own name? Is Hermione planning on staying in the basement then?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head emphatically. "She's only done it the once and Remus is worried that she might shift in the night and not be able to go back into her form."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "Smart boy, that Mini-Moony. I think we'd each had at least a month's practise under our belts before we went out to the Shrieking Shack for the first time. Hell, to be honest, we all had more trouble getting  _out_ of Animagus form than getting back into it," he said with a laugh.

* * *

**April 22nd, 1997**

Remus was pleased that Sirius had neither put up a fight nor made inappropriate comments when he'd moved his trunk into Hermione's guest room. He was fine with his own quarters, but hers still smelled like her and she'd already begun moving in that direction once they'd made it up the stairs. Both were legally adults now and content to sleep together since they were forced to stay apart at night while at school.

They'd fallen asleep with ease after the long train ride—Remus dealing with pre-moon headaches and general discomfort. Back at Grimmauld Place, he could already feel his wolf tensing over the fact that there were too few people in the house—pack or not—and Hermione, the single female aside from Tonks, who instinctively was placed in a non-category since she was pregnant. In the night, Remus tucked Hermione against his chest, primal protective instincts taking over as the minutes ticked closer and closer to the approaching full moon.

He could hear when Harry went to his own room, and hours later, when Sirius finally collapsed in bed. Sometime in the middle of the night, Lupin returned and quietly crept up the stairs to the room he shared with Tonks when they stayed at number twelve. With everyone else fast asleep and the house secure, Remus finally relaxed enough to drift off.

The morning sunlight brushed against Hermione's skin and he smiled, having woken a while earlier just to watch her. Curled against his chest with her tangled hair fanned out behind her across a pillow case, she looked positively adorable. Slowly, as she began to wake, her fingers moved against his skin, gently tracing the deep scars left there, products of his own making. He no longer flinched when she touched them, mostly because she was touching him. When a fingernail gently scraped against his nipple, he growled and pushed his hips forward, pressing his morning erection against her thigh.

"Mmm . . ." She slowly blinked her eyes open. "Morning. Full moon's tonight."

He pushed against her again. "Oh, I'm aware."

"Last one before I'll be with you."

He sighed and kissed her forehead. "No. Maybe in a few months. I want you to make sure you can stay in your form for prolonged periods of time." When she narrowed her eyes and pouted at him, he laughed. "Don't get me wrong, love, I can't wait for you to be there. I have a feeling it'll make . . . it'll just make everything so much better. However, your safety comes first."

Resigned to waiting, Hermione huffed and snuggled closer to him. "I need to speak with the others. Maybe see if we can ask Hagrid to take us into the forest to transform. I want to see if any of us react poorly to the others. Neville and I are both predators, and I'm honestly terrified that I'll do something horrible and end up hurting Harry or Ron."

Remus breathed in the scent of rose oil and oranges that lingered in her hair. "Now you know how I feel." When she said nothing but stiffened slightly, he smiled. "You'll be fine. Sirius takes his Animagus form a little too seriously with the digging in the yard and chasing his tail thing. From what I've been told and from research I did on my own, you'll only slip into your Animagus subconscious if you choose to. I very highly doubt that you'll go hunting Harry or Ron because they'll be considered prey. You might, however, when you find out what they've named you."

She pulled away from him, looking up into his eyes with indignation. "It better not be awful."

He chuckled. "You're going to hate it, I think. You've no room to complain to me considering I had no say in my own nickname either."

"It's ridiculous that we can't choose our own."

"Marauder rules."

"We're not Marauders."

He snorted. "If you say so."

"So no hunting then," she acknowledged. "I imagine we'll just sit around the shack all night?"

"Padfoot and Moony liked to wrestle. It gets some of the energy out. I certainly won't be able to do that with Nipper," he said, sharing a laugh with her over Ron's new nickname. "Neville's too big and Harry's antlers will be a danger to everyone." He pressed his hips against her again and groaned softly.

She raised an incredulous brow at him. "You better not be implying what I think you're implying . . . Moony," she said, playfully narrowing her gaze.

He laughed and wrapped an arm around her lower back. "Oh, I meant playful wrestling in the shack, love. Here, however . . ." he said as he flipped her with one quick pull. She squeaked and then let out a loud laugh as she landed, her back pressed to his chest and his pelvis grinding against her arse. "Now, I've no qualms about implying . . . many things."

It was a scramble to kick away their pyjama bottoms, especially when Remus got distracted the moment she divested herself of her top, revealing her breasts to him. After only a few minutes of worshiping each handful with calloused fingers and an eager mouth, Hermione turned her back to him again, this time teasingly, seductively. The colour of his eyes shifted from green to gold at the sight, and Hermione was suddenly gasping as adrenaline pumped through her body the moment that Remus bent her forward on the mattress, thrusting into her from behind.

"Oh, fuck . . . you're tight like this," he muttered against the skin of her back.

She mumbled various incoherencies, mostly a variety of "Yes!" and "Please!" and "More!", and she moaned when his body covered hers, skin to skin. His chest pressed flat to her back and his hands reached around her to lock his fingers with hers. The more she reflected on the moment, the more she thought about how good it felt to have him take her like this, the closer it pushed her to a climax. "Oh, God, Remus!" she cried out as her body tensed and began to shake with pleasure.

He clenched his teeth tightly to prevent himself from biting down on her shoulder, which was exactly what he was positively desperate to do. He'd let his inner wolf take over when he'd flipped her and then again when he—frankly—mounted her from behind, but as far gone as he was in the moment, he pulled back just enough not to do something exceptionally stupid. Instead, he held her tighter and pressed his lips against her spine while he came with a growl.

"That . . . that was . . . oh, wow," Hermione mumbled in the aftermath.

"Give me a few minutes and I'll wow you again," he promised.

* * *

"I'll be fine," Remus said as he kissed her at the door that led to the basement.

His skin was pale and the circles under his eyes darker than they had been just hours earlier. The day had been spent in bed, shagging and occasionally leaving to either use the loo or fetch food from the kitchen. Hermione had taken her duties as girlfriend and official werewolf caretaker very seriously and was determined to wear him out for the full moon to help ease the symptoms and pain.

"I've got Sirius and Lupin, and Neville's already down there waiting for us."

She nodded, clutching her necklace. "Soon," she insisted.

He kissed her once more. "Soon."

"Break it up, kids," Sirius said with a chipper laugh as he and Lupin walked toward the couple. "Time's a wasting and I think I've decided to wrestle a bear tonight!"

Lupin sighed, looking much worse than Remus. "I can't even bother arguing with him today."

Hermione rolled her eyes and shoved Sirius toward the basement. "Go before I hex you," she teased and then reached out to touch Remus's chest once more, her fingertips lingering over his heart before she left the boys to the full moon.

When they descended the small staircase that led down to the basement, they were met with the massive bear that Remus had been introduced to the month before. At the time, the beast had looked giant and crazed, but now it just looked positively awkward, sitting on its arse with its giant back legs spread out to either side, front paws pulled together in front of its chest as though it were nervous. Unable to stop himself, Remus burst out laughing.

Lupin smiled. "Neville, you didn't have to shift yet."

The bear looked down at the ground awkwardly and began running a long, black claw against a previous scrape in the floor. Remus was certain that if Neville was in human form, he'd be blushing.

Sirius, however, was staring at Neville's Animagus form in awe. "You are . . . a big, fucking bear!"

"Door's locked," Lupin said. "Sirius, set the wards."

Nodding, Sirius kept his eye on Neville as he flicked his wand, securing the room. "Seriously, Moony, you see how big he is? I've never seen a bear this close before. Just that one time Lily took us to the animal prison."

Both Remus and Lupin rolled their eyes. "You know it's called a zoo," Lupin said as he kicked off his shoes.

Sirius grinned and walked back to Neville's side, leaning against him as though he were a big, furry wall while they undressed. "They pick your name yet, Neville?" he asked, looking up into the large, round face of the bear, who shook his head slowly from side to side. "That's a shame. Nickname's an important part of the Animagus process. I've been tossing around a few ideas for you since we were told."

"Don't trust him," Lupin said. "He's the one who came up with Wormtail. He wasn't even drunk when he did it, either."

"It was fitting," Sirius defended.

"Horrible," Remus replied with a small laugh. He folded up his clothes and handed them to Lupin, leaving both werewolves in nothing but their pants, which would be shredded to bits within an hour.

"I put a great deal of thought into your name," Lupin said, looking at Sirius. James actually was drinking when he named me, so I've never faulted him much for it, and Peter . . . well . . . Prongs did seem to work," he admitted. "Wormtail, though? Honestly?"

Remus smiled affectionately, remembering it all himself. "Harry and Ron both came up with Hermione's. Harry, Neville, and I chose Ron's. Hermione claimed that she was looking for something positively perfect to name Harry."

Sirius put his arm around the bear, or as far as it would go. "You left out poor Neville? Horrible children. Just awful. Isn't that right . . ." he said, looking at the bear and squinting in deep thought as he searched his mind for a proper name. His eyes suddenly widened in absolute glee, which was never a good sign. "Honeypot!"

The bear made a loud grunting noise of shocked disapproval and then looked at Remus with wide, black eyes, as he began shaking his head in firm disagreement. They each tried to laugh, but the conversation would have to be put off for another time as the moon began to rise.


	36. Chapter 36

**April 23rd, 1997**

"Oh, come on," Neville said, whinging for the umpteenth time that morning.

Ron had Floo'd over for breakfast and to see how the full moon went and was greeted by an exhausted Neville, who'd spent the majority of the night trying to gently bat away a hyperactive dog, who was hell bent on wrestling with a bear. Sirius stood in the kitchen, attempting his thirteenth pancake flip. Hermione had tried to intervene twice already, but the man was having none of it.

"I think Honeypot is adorable," Hermione said with a grin, "and I've already been told that they've picked a terrible name for me, so it's only fair."

Ron grinned. "It's cute," he said. "I think you'll love it."

"Love what?" Harry asked groggily as he came down the stairs, his hair standing in six different directions. "What's burning?"

"Pancakes," Sirius answered as he finally flipped one successfully, throwing his fist up in triumph despite the fact that the pancake was closer to black than golden now.

"We're talking about the silly nicknames," Hermione told her best friend, reaching up to try and push his hair back into a semi-nonsensical mess rather than the utter ridiculousness that was its current state. "Ron says that I might actually like mine."

Harry laughed. "You won't. It's utterly  _adorable_."

Hermione cringed.

"Better than Honeypot?" Ron asked, and Neville threw his head back and groaned.

Sirius barked a laugh from the kitchen. "Sorry, mate."

"Honeypot?" Harry asked, eyes wide. "Oh, that's bloody brilliant!"

"Anything," Neville pleaded, " _anything_  but Honeypot."

"How about  _Bear_ bottom?" Ron suggested, and Hermione choked on her tea.

With a defeated sigh, Neville conceded, "Honeypot it is. You all have to have silly names as well, though," he insisted, pointing a finger in Ron's direction. "Remus told me they're going to call you Nipper."

"It's not ridiculous," Harry said with a grin. "It's cute. Perfect for a puppy."

"A little, tiny puppy," Hermione said with a smirk.

"I say we call me Jack. Cause I'm a Jack Russell Terrier."

Everyone around the table shook their heads. "Nope," Hermione said, popping the  _p_  extra loudly. "Unless you're willing to tell me my name and let me decide whether or not I should change yours?"

"Who's changing?" Remus asked from the doorway, looking tired and beat but not nearly as bad as he'd been after previous moons. A mixture of Wolfsbane Potion and being surrounded by Animagi, not to mention Hermione's calming scent, left him feeling less like he'd been hit by a truck, and more like he'd simply spent the night drinking.

Hermione stood and greeted him with a kiss. "How're you feeling?"

He smiled and pulled her back against him for another kiss, mumbling against her mouth. "Good. What's burning?"

"Breakfast," Sirius answered, and threw a stack of pancakes on a plate, setting them in the middle of the table where they remained untouched.

Remus sighed at the sight and looked over Hermione's shoulder at the utter mess that Sirius had made. "Is there anything not . . . completely awful?" he asked and then laughed when Sirius mumbled "ingrate" under his breath as he dug in the cooling cabinet for bacon and eggs.

Sitting down between Neville and Hermione, Remus leant a bit on her for support, smiling when she poured him a glass of orange juice. He pulled his wand from a pocket in his pyjama bottoms and tapped the glass, changing it into pineapple juice. Hermione gave a small snort of laughter before waving her own wand, switching it back to orange. "How's the training going?" he asked Ron, grinning at Hermione as he took a long gulp from the glass.

"Brilliant," Ron said, sitting up just a bit taller. "I'm really close to transforming. I can feel it."

Harry smiled. "Same here. I feel like . . . you know the feeling you get right before lightning strikes? Like your magic is just lit up inside of you? I've been like that for days."

Sirius put down some terrible-looking scrambled eggs in front of his godson. "Be careful," he cautioned. "If you're that close, you're going to want to try and get your first transformation out of the way soon. The longer you let that magic build up on the edge like that, the more likely you are to accidentally shift if something startles you."

Neville scoffed. "I  _still_ have that problem. Professor McGonagall put me on a low dose of Calming Draught to keep me from accidentally shifting in the middle of Defence."

"Not that Snape couldn't use a face-to-face with a big fucking bear," Ron said with a grin and reached across the table to steal Harry's plate of eggs where they remained untouched.

"Language," Hermione said around a yawn. "I didn't have that problem. Every time I've transformed so far, it's been on purpose." They all stared at her. "What?"

"Let's see it then," Harry said.

She pursed her lips. "What? No. It's . . . it's too early . . . and . . . it's private."

Remus raised a brow. "You do realise that I'm not going to let you stay with me during the full moon unless I see you shift properly, right?"

"C'mon, 'Mione!" Ron begged.

"Guys," Neville said, interjecting on her behalf, "if Hermione doesn't want to—"

"Honeypot keeps his gob shut," Ron said, pointing a finger at Neville with a smirk. Neville rolled his eyes in reply and threw his hands up in defeat, leaving Hermione—ironically—to the wolves.

She let out an indignant huff and scooted away from the table. All of the men began applauding her and cheering excitedly. Closing her eyes, Hermione breathed in deeply and imagined pulling magic from her core and letting it spread through her veins and muscles and every nerve ending until she could feel it tingling at the tips of her fingers and in the soles of her feet. There was a tight twist in her gut when the magic washed over her like cold water, and she fell to the ground on four paws, looking up at her friends and boyfriend with golden eyes.

"Wow," Remus said in awe as he moved out of his chair and knelt down in front of the wolf. Her eyes were golden, the same colour as his own when he was a werewolf, but her snout was much longer and almost came to a point. Her tail was longer as well, with soft fur, while his own was tuft. "She's beautiful," he said, touching his palm to the side of her face and smiling when she nuzzled her cheek against his hand.

Sirius grinned. "Careful there, Mini-Moony," he said. "Might think you've got a weird little wolf fetish."

Glaring up at his friend, Remus said, "I once saw you sniff a poodle's arse."

"I was saying, hello," Sirius defended, crossing his arms across his chest. "Merlin, it's like you don't have any manners."

Ron frowned, eyes suddenly wide with concern. "I'm not gonna . . . Harry, don't let me sniff arses."

Harry was busy studying Hermione and Remus. "Well done, Hermione," he said with a smile. "Or should we start calling you . . . Sunny?"

The wolf turned her head quickly, eyes wide as she stared at her friend.

"Get it?" Ron said. "Because she's dating  _Moony_." Hermione turned and growled at him. "Hey! At least you're not Nipper!"

"What smells so good?"

Everyone turned to see Tonks walk into the kitchen, her normally large Weird Sisters t-shirt stretched across her stomach. Her hair was black that morning and a bit stringy, pulled up in a lazy ponytail. Her eyes, however, were gold, nearly matching the wolf in front of her.

"Is that Hermione?" Lupin asked, walking in behind his wife, a possessive hand resting on her waist, though it looked like he was trying to play it off like he was assisting her with balance—knowing Tonks, that was actually quite plausible.

"We named her Sunny," Ron said proudly.

Tonks laughed. "I love it," she said and then bent forward to pet Hermione's head.

Lupin, senses still close to the surface from the full moon the night before, reacted swiftly. Animagus or not, the idea of his pregnant wife coming into contact with another wolf—even a female—made his inner werewolf tense instantly, and he moved to intercept the contact by stepping between the two. It was simple enough and might have not caused the slightest fuss had Remus not  _also_ been on alert. Lupin's quick movements had the younger werewolf on his feet, kicking his chair back, causing it to clatter to the floor, as he launched himself in front of Hermione.

The two werewolves stood almost nose to nose, snarling at one another, their eyes flashing gold with protective anger as they blocked the other from physical access to their mate. Hermione shifted back to human form quickly, and Tonks reached out, shouting, "Remus!" as she dug her fingers into Lupin's bicep to try and draw his attention back to her.

"Remus!" Hermione echoed, snapping at her boyfriend.

"Remus! Lupin!" Harry yelled and moved quickly around the table to reach them, only to be pulled away from the confrontation by Sirius, and practically shoved protectively behind him into the kitchen.

When the yelling and growling grew louder, Neville stood up to try and help, but the heightened emotions of the room—and lack of Calming Draught since he wasn't at Hogwarts—had him accidentally shifting. Suddenly, the large bear standing a good two feet above them all, hit his head on the chandelier and fell face first onto the table, sending plates of eggs and burnt pancakes flying about.

Everyone's attention would have been drawn to Neville, were it not for the loud clatter coming from the other side of the kitchen, where Harry had been standing just a moment earlier. In his place was a large stag, panicked, with its antlers stuck in an old, iron pot rack that hung above the stove and sink. The loud sound of metal clanking against metal drew everyone's focus, most of whom had their mouths and eyes wide open in shock.

"Harry?" Tonks asked.

"Oh hell," Sirius muttered and slowly approached his godson. "See what happens when you bloody wolves can't control yourselves? Someone help Neville up and fix my fucking table." He placed his hands up toward Harry. "Calm down, son."

Harry, however, was not calm in the slightest. Not used to being on four feet, he stumbled forward, his antlers, however, remained firmly stuck in the rack overhead. In a panic, he bucked his back legs, kicking them straight through a cabinet and breaking a shelf. Bags of crisps tumbled out like a dam of fried potatoes had just burst, and scattered all over the kitchen floor.

"Shift back!" Hermione yelled.

The stag's eyes widened and a swirl of magic pushed around him, his body shrinking and twisting back into itself—and out of the rack—leaving a very human Harry sitting on the floor in a pile of crushed crisps, mushy eggs, and burnt pancakes. "Bloody hell!"

Tonks snorted in amusement. "Wotcher, Harry."

"Wotcher,  _Bucky_ ," Hermione corrected with a small laugh as Harry levelled a slight glare in her direction. "Don't look at me like that. I was perfectly content to give you a proper name until you went and called me Sunny."

Sirius sighed in relief and affectionately ran a hand through Harry's hair. "Told you it could sneak up on you," he muttered. "Now, who's going to clean up this mess?" Everyone turned their heads and stared at Remus and Lupin, who were busy trying to help the large bear to his feet.

* * *

**April 25th, 1997**

It was interesting, Hermione thought as she threw her head back in pleasure—thighs clenched tightly on Remus's hips as she rocked against him, groaning as each push forward had him thrusting deeper inside of her—that despite both of them being of age and in a serious relationship, that there came a great thrill of being together like this inside Grimmauld Place. It was as though they were typical teenagers, sneaking about for quick sex when the adults weren't paying attention instead of the people they were: warriors, soldiers even, trapped in war and broken by the effects of it.

A single drop of sweat fell into the hollow of her throat before dripping down between her breasts. Remus sat up, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close, catching the drop on his tongue before latching his mouth to her breast. Hermione cried out, digging her fingers into his hair and holding on tight as though she were afraid he'd buck her off at any moment. She certainly couldn't have that happening, she was much too close to . . . "Oh my God! Remus!"

The closer she'd come to finding her Animagus form, the more her magic tingled with anticipation. Now that she'd fully transformed multiple times, properly bonding with her form—Sunny—she felt changes inside of her on a biological level. She was more attuned with her senses, more alert at all times, and had a plethora of extra energy just begging to be burned off. Remus was more than happy to oblige.

"Wait for it," he pleaded with her. "Hold out—oh . . . fuck—just . . . wait for me."

Hermione clenched her eyes shut tightly, gasping for breath as her limbs shook with the effort to stave off the impending orgasm. When Remus thrust hard inside of her and let out a heavy groan, she let go and actually screamed from the crash that washed over her. The tight fluttering of her body, pulsing around Remus's cock, had him growling happily against her collarbone, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head.

"Mother of . . . wow."

They barely had time to react to the sound coming from the hallway, just before the door was thrown open. Hermione yelped, and Remus tried to fling a blanket up over the both of them to hide their nakedness from Harry, who stood in the doorway, wand drawn.

"Harry Potter!" Hermione shrieked.

Face suddenly red, Harry's eyes widened. "Oh shit. I . . . oh my gods, Hermione. I am so . . . I thought . . . I heard you scream and I thought—" He blanched. "Well, I didn't think it was . . . because, y'know."

Remus completely covered her body, the blanket wrapped around his waist and tangled in a knot around her left foot. Peeking from around her boyfriend's ribcage, she glared at her best friend. "Harry! Get out!"

Cringing awkwardly, Harry quickly stowed his wand and muttered, "Right, er, sorry," and ducked back through the door, tugging it closed behind him.

"Stop laughing," Hermione demanded, smacking Remus's stomach as he still held himself over her protectively, tucking his face into her shoulder as he chuckled. "Oh, poor Harry," she said after a minute when Remus's laughter became infectious. Her giggles eventually died away, replaced by soft mewling, as he traced her neck with lazy kisses. "You can't be serious. Again?" she asked when he pressed his hips against her, reaching between them to adjust her legs on either side of his once more. "Remus! Everyone will know what we're doing up here now!"

He laughed and captured her lips with his own. "Everyone, besides Harry, already knew what we were up to." When she still seemed slightly hesitant, despite the fact that her back arched under the touch of his fingers, he added, "We're going back to Hogwarts soon. Nights spent in separate dormitor—mphf!"

Effectively silenced by her kiss, Remus gripped her thigh tightly with one hand and rolled them over until he was back below her in, what he believed, was the most glorious view in all the world. Despite it no longer being entirely necessary, all things considered, he reached for his wand and threw up his strongest Silencing Charm.

* * *

**April 27th, 1997**

Hermione couldn't tell what the exact catalyst was in her officially growing up. It might've been the battle in the Department of Mysteries, where grown men targeted children for murder, and she herself had almost died. It might've been leaving her parents house for what was probably the final time, and watching them leave as well, all memory of their only daughter firmly pulled from their minds. It might've been actually turning seventeen, and therefore becoming an adult in the Wizarding world.

Or it might've been Remus.

Years prior, she would anxiously bounce her feet as she sat, waiting for the trip that would take her to King's Cross, so she could return to school. Thoughts of upcoming exams, new lessons, classes, and essays to look over would be at the forefront of her mind. Sometimes, thanks to being friends with Harry, she would return to Hogwarts wondering what new adventure would await her.

The excitement of returning to school, however, was quickly fading into the past.

The morning they were due back at Hogwarts saw Hermione lazily waking in Remus's arms and slowly pulling herself from bed to shower. He didn't join her, mostly because, despite having multiple bathrooms in the large house, there was only the one on that floor, where the majority of the guest rooms were. She'd made herself very clear that they should avoid anything that might have her friend accidentally walking in on them mid-coitus ever again. As it was, Harry could barely look either of them in the eye. Dressed in clean clothes, Hermione had leant against the counter to brush her teeth, smiling happily as her boyfriend stood beside her, angling his neck this way and that as he shaved away several days of stubble. She didn't terribly mind the scratchy growth, she could still feel the delicious burn left between her thighs from it. The moment, however, felt so very . . . domestic . . . and Hermione couldn't help but wish it would linger. Soon they would be back at Hogwarts, reminiscent of childhood, instead of the week where she could actually see the faint outline of a proper future.

Sirius and Lupin walked them onto platform nine and three-quarters, and the red steam engine looked much smaller than it ever had before. Smiling at the sight of the Weasleys, Hermione briefly left Remus's side to go and greet Ron and Ginny. Harry was distracted, gaze flickering through the crowd in a search for Luna, even as Sirius put his arm around the boy as they moved closer to the train.

"Er . . ." Lupin cleared his throat. "I wanted you to . . . well . . ." He sighed and raked a hand through his hair as Remus turned to face him. "When I turned seventeen, it didn't feel like much cause for celebration because of what I was. The future, adulthood, to be honest, looked quite bleak at the time. Sirius, James, and . . . well, they made the best of it, like always. But at home . . . we had a small dinner. However, tradition was still tradition."

Remus watched curiously as the older werewolf reached into the pocket of his shabby robes, a stark contrast to the ones that Remus himself wore now. When Lupin withdrew an old pocket watch, Remus's throat tightened at the sight of the old, familiar timepiece. "That's . . . that's Dad's."

Lupin smiled. "When he gave it to me, he told me that I was a man now. A bit ironic, all things considered." Both werewolves chuckled self-deprecatingly. "You're seventeen now, and this watch belongs to you."

Eyes wide, Remus shook his head and took a step back. "No, that's . . . I'm not—you should save that for your . . . what if you and Tonks have a boy? That belongs to your son."

Lupin stepped toward Remus and grabbed the boy's hand. "Because she was an only child, despite being a girl, Dora's father gave her his watch when she turned seventeen. The same day she sent her request in to the Ministry to be pre-approved for admittance to the Auror Academy. If she and I have a boy, we'll give him that watch. This one, however, belongs to you."

When Remus tried to shake his head once more, Lupin placed the watch in his hand and closed the boy's fingers around it. "Let me do this. You deserve . . ." He cleared his throat. "Remus, you're a man now," he said, his tone taking on one that Remus might've imagined he once used in his "professor days", or perhaps a fatherly voice that he'd been practising in the mirror. "Being a grown man means more than just practising magic outside of Hogwarts. It means that . . . that you think about your future, and the people that will be a part of it. You have a future, Remus. I once didn't think that I did, but you . . . you have a whole life to look forward to. Job prospects that will be there," he said firmly, "friends by your side, and . . . a family to support you."

Clenching the timepiece in his palm, unable to properly look at it just yet, Remus nodded and, in a move that shocked even Lupin himself, reached out and hugged the older werewolf tightly in gratitude. When they parted, Lupin cleared his throat again and smiled. "You're uh . . . don't miss your train . . . Mini-Moony."

Remus laughed at the nickname and rolled his eyes. "See you this summer. Stay safe."

* * *

The very brief prefect's meeting was one of the friendliest ever, considering the majority of Slytherin prefects were now on good terms with the other Houses. On the way back to the compartment, Pansy Parkinson nudged Hermione. "Granger," she said. "We need to chat with you lot as soon as we get back to the school. Seventh floor?"

Hermione's brows drew together in concern. "Is everything all right?"

Pansy rolled her eyes dramatically. "If it weren't, do you think I'd be willing to talk about it in the open like this when I literally just informed you that we need to meet privately?"

Sighing, Hermione just nodded at the other witch. "I'll let the others know," she said and turned to catch up with Ron, who was glaring over her shoulder at Pansy merely out of habit. "Stop that. We can't expect them to be friendly if we're the ones picking fights, now can we?"

He huffed. "Not picking anything. I still don't like more than half of those snakes, y'know."

"I'm aware."

"Especially Parkinson."

"I know, Ron."

"And especially Malfoy."

Hermione couldn't help but let out a small, exasperated laugh.

"Greengrass is all right, I 'spose. She's been a lot nicer since her sister—whoa!" Ron ducked out of the way when the compartment door slid open and Lavender practically jumped out of it. She smiled brightly, blushing prettily at him before snatching Hermione's hand and dragging her down the aisle. Ron chuckled at the look of fright on Hermione's face as she was pulled after his girlfriend. "If you girls run into the trolley lady, grab me a liquorice wand!"

Lavender tugged Hermione into an empty compartment and shut the door quickly behind her. Before Hermione could utter even a noise of complaint, Lavender blurted out, "I had sex with Ron!"

The look of mild horror that instantly grew on Hermione's face should have told her roommate exactly how much she wanted to be a part of this specific conversation. However, Lavender misinterpreted the expression as shock and continued talking. "I went to his house one day over the hols, and he took me out to the pretty orchards behind the pond. They have a treehouse out there and—"

"Lavender! Please tell me that you didn't lose your virginity in that treehouse!"

"What? Don't be silly, Hermione," Lavender laughed. "That thing was disgusting. We had sex under the treehouse on a blanket on the grass."

Hermione groaned a little and tried to will away the imagery that was forcing its way into her mind. Despite, at one time in her life, having harboured a very mild crush on her friend, she most certainly was not the slightest bit interested in hearing the details of his sex life. "Why are you telling me this?"

Lavender looked mildly hurt by the question. "Because I didn't get to see Parvati over the break, and I didn't trust an owl to take a letter containing that kind of information to her. Hermione!" she exclaimed, bringing a hand to her heart for added effect. "What if her parents took the letter first and read it? What if Padma read it and told all her little Ravenclaw friends? Ravenclaws are terrible gossips, you know."

The irony, Hermione noted, was almost painful.

"Besides," Lavender said with a heavy sigh, "you're my friend and friends share things, right?"

Her expression softening at the words, Hermione smiled. "Do you love him?"

Lavender held out her hand. "Isn't it lovely?"

Hermione glanced down at the thin bracelet with two small charms. Knowing Ron, he'd actually saved up for the item, which meant that he'd properly done chores and worked for his Sickles. Might've even sold some of his Cannon's memorabilia—or pawned his soul to Fred and George. It didn't matter that it wasn't a flashy ring or something gaudy like that necklace that Lavender had purchased him for Christmas, the tiny bracelet lit up the blonde's face as though it were an enchanted diamond, glittering in the light of the sun on the brightest day of the year.

A sudden thought occurred to Hermione, and her smile became tense. "Lavender, you didn't . . . you didn't have sex with Ron because . . . ?" she trailed off, gesturing to the bracelet.

"What? Oh Merlin! No!" Lavender said with a loud giggle. "No, I was planning on having sex with him no matter what. I . . . I do love him. Really, truly."

"I'm happy for you both," Hermione said and then tried not to cringe when Lavender leant forward and hugged her tightly.

"Sorry to attack you with this, Hermione. I just needed to tell someone, and I know that you and Remus have already . . . you know. I was hoping . . . I don't know . . . you could give me advice?"

Paling, Hermione pried herself away from the blonde. "I draw the line on giving you advice on . . . on that! And don't tell me details!" she added quickly. "Seriously. None."

Amused by the grimace on Hermione's face, Lavender laughed, bouncing on her toes with joy as she pulled open the compartment door. "Come on. Let's get back to our men," she said, reaching out and taking Hermione's hand and lacing their fingers together. Hermione rolled her eyes but chuckled good-naturedly and offered Lavender no resistance. "It's a bit chilly, and I'm looking forward to several hours of snuggling with my Ro—"

A chill ran up Hermione's spine a mere moment before Remus and Harry burst out of their compartment door, followed swiftly by Ron and Neville, all with wands drawn. Luna was hovering in the doorway, wide eyes blinking in the direction that the wizards were moving. Before either Lavender or Hermione could ask what was happening, Harry shouted, " _Expecto Patronum_!"

As though they'd been lurking in the tiniest of shadows, in cracks and crevices of doorways and corners, at least ten Dementors appeared at once as though challenged by Harry's Patronus. The large stag, that now looked much more like Harry's Animagus form than ever, bent its head low before charging. One Dementor flew up and out of the way of the spectral deer, rejoining its comrades.

Before the creatures could make another move, a chorus of "Expecto Patronum!" echoed throughout the train, and the light created by the plethora of Patronuses was almost blinding. Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs on one end of the train, Slytherins and Ravenclaws on the other. Birds, snakes, cats, horses, and rabbits all charged forward—not to mention two rather large wolves and an enormous bear. The Patronuses nearly blended together in the confined space, creating a solid wall of light that moved steadily forward on either side of the dementors, effectively trapping them. When the walls pressed together, the inhuman screams vibrated the compartment windows, which froze over and then cracked down the centre just as the Patronuses finally vanished, revealing nothing left of the dementors.

"Remus!" Hermione rushed forward and flew into her boyfriend's arms just as he turned and opened them to her. The couple were jostled a bit as Lavender likewise ran toward Ron. It was Harry, however, that pushed his way past his friends to the back of the gathering in order to sweep Luna up into a hug filled with immense relief.

"Did that just fucking happen? I mean . . . seriously?!" Pansy Parkinson screamed. "Did . . . did we all just—"

"We killed dementors," Theo whispered, eyes wide.

"Why were they here?" Blaise asked.

"The better question," Hermione said, "is who sent them?"

Harry and Draco shared a look, and the Slytherin finally asked, "Or who they were sent  _for_."


	37. Chapter 37

**April 27th, 1997**

The Room of Requirement was filled with a chilling silence as the large group gathered together.

After the dementor attack on the Hogwart's Express, dinner had been a short affair. Dumbledore had been missing from the High Table, and both Professors McGonagall and Snape left early, forcing the rest of the staff to handle the students who were brimming with questions. The younger children were all sent to bed with chocolate while the prefects—and both Head Boy and Girl—looked the other way to allow a grouping of the other students to slip out of bed, making their way toward the Room of Requirement.

Once inside the room, the teenagers separated into small clusters, some clinging to one another physically while the others clearly took comfort in the close proximity of trusted friends. Hermione wasn't sure, but she could not remember when she had last let go of Remus's hand. Harry was alert and on edge, defensively adjusting his stance if anyone stepped too close to his friends, especially Luna. Across the room, Draco and Pansy stood side-by-side, postures stiff, arms hanging down at their sides so that the tips of their fingers brushed against one another.

"They were after Draco," Theo finally said, breaking the silence. "Though, I imagine taking Potter down would have been a close secondary objective."

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

The Slytherins all snorted in amusement, sending the Gryffindors looks of incredulity. It was Pansy, however, that spoke. "Other than that fact that it's obvious? Crabbe and Goyle are ridiculous gossips. They were bragging the very moment we all stepped on the train. Their fathers," she said and then cleared her throat, "and . . . well, most of our parents were invited to secret meetings over the break." She looked at Theo, who turned his eyes to the floor. "Bellatrix Lestrange wants Draco dead."

"More accurately, she wants me to suffer so that my mother suffers for betraying her bloody Dark Lord," Draco spat angrily. "We knew they would attack, but we didn't see this coming. Nothing this public. I was prepared to be assaulted on a visit to Hogsmeade, honestly." When Harry stared at him speculatively, Draco narrowed his eyes. "We would have told you otherwise, had we known that they would have been foolish enough to attack the Hogwarts Express."

"It wouldn't have been foolish in their eyes," Remus chimed in. "I imagine Voldemort did not think a group of students capable of casting a Patronus Charm. Everyone knows that Harry can do it, but he wouldn't have been able to handle the number that they sent."

"But now he knows," Theo said. "It'll be in the bloody  _Prophet_ tomorrow knowing our luck. We're all fucked."

Hermione sighed and squeezed Remus's hand once before finally releasing it. "We need to keep Draco safe." Ignoring the scoffing noise that the blond made at her suggestion, she added, "As well as the other Slytherins with Death Eater connections. Even if your parents were to discover your switched allegiances and were amenable to it, I imagine very few are accomplished Occlumens."

Pansy actually grinned. "For once, Granger, I think we're on the same page."

"Professor Snape has agreed to Obliviate some of us," Theo said to the complete shock of most of the others. "Pansy and I met with him privately over the break. He says that we need to be prepared. Hogwarts won't be the same next year, and that a plan needs to be put in place for the Muggle-borns, and those of us who are being targeted, Draco, and you lot high on that list." He gestured to Harry, Hermione, and Ron. "The rest of us will be selectively Obliviated, removing all memories of how to gain access to this room, as well as any details of who we saw when we were here. If someone tries to use Legilimency against us, it will look as though we discovered your little defence group meeting privately, and someone else poorly tried to erase our memories to hide the evidence."

When Theo's gaze rested on Hermione, her back stiffened. "I wouldn't—" she began to say, her heart rate accelerating at the memory of doing exactly that to her own parents. Then, forcing the guilt and hurt away for a time when she could properly address it, she scowled. "And what do you mean  _poorly_?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Because you're a teenager, Granger. Besides, the majority of the Death Eaters will buy the fact that a Muggle-born tried something too advanced for them and made a mess of it. Truth or not."

"Not," Hermione muttered defensively under her breath.

"Can he be trusted?" Harry asked, looking across the room at Draco specifically. "I . . . I don't know if I can put all of my faith in Snape. No matter what Dumbledore says."

"But you trust Dumbledore?" Pansy asked, rolling her eyes and laughing in a scathing tone. "Both of them are keeping secrets, that's for certain. Unfortunately, Snape is the only Occlumens we all know that's accomplished enough to keep our secrets. And whether or not he'll ever even stand the likes of you, he's the Head of our House and has been for years.  _We_ trust him. If you can't, then that's your problem. Find your own way through this."

Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "So you'll join up with us when it's convenient for you, but at the first sign of trouble, you all just scamper off?"

"She meant," Theo began, casting an impatient look in Pansy's direction, "is that you actually need to find safety and not tell any of us. Or Snape. Or Dumbledore, if you'd like my opinion." He smirked when he saw the varied expressions on the rest of their faces, telling him exactly which ones cared one way or the other about his opinion.

"We're all to meet with Professor Snape tonight," Pansy added.

Hermione's mouth fell open. "But that's . . . What if something happens?"

"Kind of what we're hoping to avoid, Granger."

Frowning, Hermione nodded. "I only meant . . . We haven't finished going through all the Defence Charms."

Pansy laughed. "Worried about us?"

Saying nothing, because she actually was worried about the Slytherins—being so close to Death Eaters—Hermione rejoined Remus and Ron, smiling a little when she felt Lavender reach out and take her hand, squeezing it slightly.

Harry made his way across the room to stand in front of Theo. "Be safe," he said, extending a hand to the Slytherin. "Take care of one another. We know where you stand, and after tonight . . . we won't take whatever you say to us personally."

Theo took the hand. "I can't promise we'll be friendly. We're hoping that Snape can keep a level of trust somewhere in the back of our minds, but—"

"You're not Death Eaters. None of you are . . . bad people. If you hadn't wanted to throw a Crucio at any of us before this, then I'll assume that a few memory alterations won't change anything."

Draco sighed and pushed his way between Theo and Harry, heading for the door. "Don't kid yourself, Potter. Everything's changed."

* * *

**June 4th, 1997**

"We should have done it last month when Ron suggested it," Hermione said stiffly, her arms folded across her chest as she stared at Remus from the opposite end of the sofa. Ron sat beside her in a large armchair, nodding his head enthusiastically.

It had been a month full of tension. While the rest of Hogwarts did not know one way or another, presumably the Slytherins had all been memory-charmed by Snape. Either the snakes really had lost all recollection of time spent together in the Room of Requirement or they were incredibly good actors. Remus had a thought that it could be both. The snakes went back to sneering, scowling, and shunning anyone outside of their own House, and Draco was rumoured to take his meals in his dorm room because the Slytherins were shunning him as well. Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort wanted his head, which made the blond persona non grata.

The dementor attack was reported and acknowledged by the Ministry, though the blame was turned in every direction. There were suspicions that Voldemort had gained control over the creatures, but the Ministry assured the citizens of Wizarding Britain that they were in control. In fact, to prove that they were doing something about it, Rufus Scrimgeour used the event as a way to finally oust Fudge as Minister in an overwhelming Wizengamot vote. Minister Scrimgeour then directed blame toward Hogwarts and Dumbledore, accusing the Board of Governors for their lack of attention to security detail aboard the Hogwarts Express.

Dumbledore's appearances in the school became a rare thing. Gossip suggested that he was too busy dealing with the aftermath of the attack, and that Minister Scrimgeour was trying to remove him from Hogwarts, possibly replace the Board of Governors as well. Remus and his friends, however, knew the truth. Dumbledore's curse was killing him.

No longer meeting up for secret defence lessons—since they could not risk being caught by a Slytherin prefect—the students focused on revising for their final exams, Quidditch practice, and—at least for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Remus—plotted on getting the memory from Slughorn.

The exams passed by rather swiftly, Apparation included, and everyone celebrated when Gryffindor won the Inter-House Quidditch Cup. Remus had been incredibly happy. It was the first time that they had all enjoyed being typical teenagers rather than focusing on war and Death Eaters and Voldemort. It felt, for the first real time in a long while, like he was back in his own time and world, laughing and having fun with James, Sirius, and Peter. Except he much preferred this time and world since he had Hermione on his arm. Which made it sting just a little extra that they'd been arguing in circles around one another about Slughorn's memory.

"How did he look?" Remus asked Harry, ignoring both Hermione and Ron, which he knew only added fuel to the fire, but he was too agitated to care that he was digging himself a bigger hole when it came to his stubborn girlfriend.

Harry was the awkward person in the middle. "Dumbledore?" he asked, sighing and running his hand through his hair. "Worse. He kept his hand all bundled up, especially since I couldn't stop staring at the thing. But he looks—and I know this sounds silly considering it's Dumbledore, but he looks old. Like, really old. And he won't let up about the memory. I think I know why. Dumbledore wants confirmation on how many Horcruxes Voldemort made."

The idea that someone had made one, let alone many, was horrifying to Remus. But there had to be a limit. There just had to be. "Seven."

Ron made a squawking noise of distress, and his face paled. "Seven? Bloody hell."

"You can't be certain," Hermione argued. "If Harry uses the Felix Felicis, as Ron suggested, then we could confirm that."

"And as I've said a thousand times," Remus said with a biting tone, "using Felix Felicis on that would be a waste. We're at war, Hermione, and Harry could use that potion for a lot more important things than a memory."

"Not if what we need to know is in that memory, Remus!" She stood up, putting her hands on her hips, and glared down at him.

His inner wolf growled at her attempt at dominance; he could smell her Animagus spirit stirring inside of her, and Moony wanted to pin her to the ground. "There has to be another way."

"Seven, though?" Ron asked again, still looking as though he could be sick at any moment.

"It's a possibility," Hermione said irritably. "Seven is a powerfully magical number. But so are others."

"It's the  _most_ powerful number," Remus said to her, and he had to hold back the smug grin he wanted to show when her eyes flashed in anger over being corrected. "And Harry agrees with me."

"Harry agrees with you because you're Remus  _Lupin_ ," Ron shot at him. "Never mind that you're just like the rest of us."

"Hey!" Harry said defensively. "I can tell the difference between my friend and my former professor, thanks. Remus is right. What happens if Voldemort attacks again like what happened in the Ministry? We could have beaten him right then, Ron. Maybe if I'd have had the Felix Felicis on me then—"

"It wouldn't have mattered because he still had Horcruxes!" Hermione snapped. "Horcruxes that we need to know the exact number of—Harry, where are you going?"

The boy shook his head as he walked toward the door. "I'm going to take a walk. I'm tired of all of this fighting."

"Harry!

"Mate!"

The door was swiftly, and loudly, shut behind him, leaving the other three in the common room at a loss for words. Eventually, Ron cleared his throat and glanced toward the staircase. "I'd better . . . Yeah," he said before making his way up to bed.

Hating the silence that followed, Remus groaned, letting his head lull to the side to stare at the place where Hermione had unceremoniously sat, arms back to being crossed over her chest defiantly. "It's not fair for you to be mad at me since I'm trying to protect him just as much as you are."

"If Dumbledore says—"

"Dumbledore has been cursed, Hermione," Remus said, interrupting her. "How can we know for certain that he's even in his right mind at the moment? You're thinking of what needs to happen right this second, but I'm trying to plan for long term. I know I wasn't there when the first war happened, but I've spoken with Lupin and Sirius about it at length. This isn't just about defeating Voldemort. It's about defeating Voldemort and staying alive in the process. I can't lose . . ."

Glancing up, Hermione settled her gaze on Remus, who had promptly looked away from her when his emotions got the better of him. Stubborn, she refused to admit that he was right, but that did not mean they needed to argue about it. "I have an idea," she said softly. "There's one Hogsmeade weekend left, right? How about we put our money together and buy some of that crystallised pineapple that Slughorn fancies so much?"

Remus let the corner of his mouth tip up. "You want to bribe him into giving Harry the memory?"

Hermione shrugged. "We could even give him some of that good firewhisky that I confiscated from those two Ravenclaws during rounds last week. I hadn't had a chance to turn it over to Professor McGonagall."

He leant forward, grabbing her by the robes and tugging on the fabric until she moved up against him. "If we can't get him to hand over the memory by the morning we're all set to go back to London, then I'll tell Harry to use the Felix. Is that agreeable?"

She kissed him chastely as an answer.

Sighing in relief, Remus pressed his forehead against hers.

"Want to set up a Privacy Charm?" she quietly asked.

Shaking his head, Remus kissed her once more. "No. I hate fighting with you. It's exhausting. I'd rather just sit with you here for a while, if that's all right?"

Relaxing against him and letting the heat of his skin warm her, Hermione realised he was right: fighting was exhausting. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," he whispered, resting his cheek against the top of her head. He let the smell of rose oil and oranges drift over him, willing his eyes shut, and blissful sleep claimed them both.

* * *

Remus's body jerked beneath her, startling Hermione awake. Sitting up quickly to find the reason, she spotted Harry hurrying through the portrait hole. He looked equal parts excited and anxious. "What's happened?"

"I'm fine," he said shortly before dashing past them and up to the boys' dormitory. Just as quickly, he dashed back down the stairs, his Invisibility Cloak draped over his shoulder leaving him looking as though he were missing a third of his body. On the right side, only a portion of his neck was visible all the way down to his elbow. His forearm, wrist, and hand appeared to be floating midair beside him as he moved. In that hand, he clenched a rolled up sock. Ron followed him down the stairs looking just as perplexed as Remus and Hermione.

Remus stood first, a concerned expression on his face as he echoed Hermione's earlier question, "What's happened?"

"I've got to be quick," Harry said, panting. "Dumbledore thinks I'm getting my Invisibility Cloak. Listen, Dumbledore thinks he's found a Horcrux. He's taking me with him to get it so we can destroy it together."

Ron's eyebrows lifted higher in shock, and Remus and Hermione shared a concerned glance. "Harry," Hermione began, her eyes growing larger as she contemplated the many things that could go wrong with her best friend venturing out alongside a cursed headmaster in search of a Dark artefact. "Do you really think that Dumbledore should—"

"I haven't got time to argue," Harry insisted, thrusting the rolled up sock into her hands. "I ran into Trelawney while I was out, and I learned some things about Snape. He's the one who did it. He's the one who told Voldemort about the prophecy. He got my mum and dad killed." He removed the Marauder's Map from his back pocket and handed it over to Ron. "You've got to keep an eye on him while we're gone. Snape knows that Dumbledore's cursed, and if he finds out that we've left the school, there's no telling what could happen."

Remus looked down at Hermione's hands, doing his best to focus on the issue at hand and ignore the growing anger in his gut over the knowledge that Snape had something to do with the death of his friends. When Hermione unrolled the sock, revealing the bottle of Felix Felicis, Remus turned a sharp gaze on Harry. "You need to take this with you!"

Harry shook his head. "No. You lot keep it. Split it between the three of you." The portrait opened and, as Neville stepped through, Harry amended, "Four of you. I'll be fine. I'll be with Dumbledore."

"Where are you going with Dumbledore?" Neville asked, but the others focused on Harry instead.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Harry cut her off. "Don't look at me like that, Hermione. I need to know that you lot are safe."

"And we're supposed to sit here and worry about—Harry Potter!" She chased him to the door before he swiftly made his way through its opening, shutting it behind him. Jaw hanging open in shock, she turned back and looked at the three stunned boys staring back at her, none appearing to know what to do next. "Well, what are we standing around for?  _Expecto Patronum_!" When the silver spectral wolf appeared from the end of her wand, Hermione concentrated all of her magic, relaxing her shoulders as she made eye contact with her Patronus.

"Did you figure out how to send messages yet?" Neville asked her, drawing his wand. He conjured his Patronus, a perfect replica of his Animagus form, and waited for Hermione to make the next move.

"Not yet," she said. "But I do know how to send it to specific locations. I figure that just the appearance will get an alert out to the rest of the Order. Who knows if Dumbledore is in his right mind to have told them his plans."

"Unlikely," Remus said with a frown. He briefly struggled in conjuring his Patronus, his mind filled with concern for Harry and a fresh sting over the revelation of how James and Lily came to be hunted by Voldemort.

"Go to Sirius Black," Hermione said, concentrating. Her Patronus gave her a brief look before nodding. It turned on its paws and darted through the nearest window in a flash.

"Where's McGonagall?" Neville asked Ron, who was scanning the Marauder's Map with narrowed eyes in search of Snape.

"In her office," he replied.

"Alone?" When Ron nodded, Neville looked at his bear. "We can try and go to her, but this might be faster. Go to Minerva McGonagall. Move through the walls if you can." The others gave him a look as the bear vanished, and he smiled awkwardly. "It's odd enough to see a Patronus moving through the halls. My bear stands as tall as any doorway."

Remus turned to his own wolf, who was waiting for instructions. "Right. Go to Remus Lupin," he said. The wolf tilted his head to the side, staring up at him. Neville and Ron both snorted in amusement, covering their laughter with by clearing their throats. Remus sighed. "The  _other_ Remus Lupin."

"What do we do about the Felix?" Ron asked, looking at the bottle in Hermione's hand.

She breathed sharply through her nose, her lips pursed. "Nothing. I refuse to believe that we're in more danger than Harry is."

Ron opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off when a voice shouted from the nearby fireplace. The teenagers spun to see Sirius's head in the embers, quickly looking around. "Hermione? Harry?"

Hermione fell to her knees in front of the glowing remnants of the earlier fire. "Dumbledore and Harry have left the school. They've gone after a . . . you-know-what," she said, trying to be subtle. After everything that had happened the year before with Umbridge, there was no way of telling if someone could be listening in on their conversation.

Sirius's eyes widened and they could see how jaw clench; he looked even more menacing since his face was shaped out of still-hot embers. "We're on our way," he said quickly. "Dumbledore said he had to leave the school for something. We all assumed it was a health issue since he's been . . . He asked the Order to look in on Hogwarts, but he did not inform any of us that he had plans for Harry."

Before any of the teens could say another word, Sirius vanished from the fireplace.

Hermione pocketed the Felix Felicis as she stood up. Remus took her hand and made his way toward the door, followed by the others. The four rushed down the grand staircase, which thankfully moved just so that they could reach the ground floor without any diversions. By the time they exited the castle, several members of the Order—led by a furious Sirius Black—were making their way across the ground from the front gate.

* * *

By the time the clock in the corner of Professor McGonagall's office edged close to midnight, Sirius had needed to be restrained and administered a small dose of a Calming Draught. Without knowing where Dumbledore had absconded with Harry, there was little any of them could actually do. A few Order members were sent down to Hogsmeade to subtly ask after the headmaster. Causing a scene outside of the castle could alert anyone, Death Eaters especially, that not only was Dumbledore missing from Hogwarts, but Harry Potter was no longer behind the protective wards of the school.

So they waited.

Lupin and a very pregnant Tonks took a walk to the hospital wing to get a mild Pain Relief Potion for her back, and Remus watched them carefully as they left the room, a strange flutter in his chest at the sight of his older self taking special care of his wife. Automatically, he moved closer to Hermione on the sofa they shared. Neville stood in the corner of the room looking as though he were trying to stay out of the way, just in case something bad were about to happen and he did not want to be an issue for the adults. Ron sat on the floor at Hermione's feet, his eyes focused on the Marauder's Map. While the teenagers had not offered much in the way of explanation, their genuinely panicked reactions at the suggestion of informing Snape had actually stopped Minerva in her tracks. Instead, she quietly shut down travelling access to every Floo Network in the castle, just in case.

"He'll be all right, Sirius," Remus said, looking at his friend. It was sometimes easy to see the carefree youthful man Remus had known from his own timeline, but when Sirius shut down, it became more difficult. The worry and anger in his eyes were strikingly familiar, though not from a younger Sirius that he could recall. This was instead what Remus believed to be Lily's influence on the man during the years that he had not been there to witness. The years where Sirius grew up and became a godfather. Lily would never have allowed James to give Sirius such a position if she had not trusted him, which meant that Sirius would have needed to prove some maturity. It was easy now to see why James and Lily had chosen him.

"If there's a single scratch on him," Sirius muttered in a threatening voice that was only slightly dulled due to the Calming Draught, "I'll transfer him to Beauxbatons." Ron and Hermione both looked up at him in a panic. Sirius caught their expressions and he added, "You can come too."

Lupin and Tonks walked back into the office. "Look who we found," Tonks said with a soft smile as Luna followed them inside. Minerva pursed her lips, clearly unnerved over the amount of children that were out past curfew, taking over her office.

Hermione cringed, a guilty expression coming over her.

"It's all right, Hermione," Luna said sweetly. "I'm not worried about Harry."

"We thought to contact the adults but . . . Luna, I'm so sorry we didn't tell you." Hermione scolded herself for forgetting Harry's girlfriend. Had Remus been in trouble and someone forgot to tell her, she would have been inconsolable. Luna, however, looked just as serene as ever.

"Snape's moving!" Ron yelled. "Snape's left his office! Look!"

Sirius snatched the Marauder's Map out of Ron's hands, furrowing his brow as he glared down at the moving name on the parchment. "He's walking awfully fast toward the Entrance Hall."

Before Minerva could say a word, Lupin and Sirius shot out of the door, followed by Tonks and the children. Halfway down the corridor, a tabby cat sped past every one of them, weaving in between their legs until she had overtaken the lead. Minerva transformed back into her human form just before turning a corner toward the Entrance Hall. "Severus?"

Snape spun on his heel, halfway out the large doors of the castle. His black eyes were wide until they narrowed at the sight of the rest of the group. "Care to indulge me as to why the Floo connections to the castle have all been closed down?"

"Perhaps, if you would tell me why you're leaving the castle this late, and with such haste?" Minerva demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Because while I was prevented from leaving my quarters through the Floo Network, I am still able to be contacted, which I was by Madam Rosmerta not two minutes ago. Apparently, Potter and the headmaster Apparated in front of her establishment requesting my assistance."

Sirius did not wait for more information. He threw himself forward, landing on the ground with four legs, and darted past Snape as Padfoot, roughly knocking the man against the door. Lupin was just behind him, but he turned to stop Tonks from following. "Stay with Minerva and the children."

Tonks looked annoyed, but when Ron and Remus began to move toward the door, she turned and drew her wand. "Nope," she said, shaking her head. "You heard the man."

"Thank you, Nymphadora," Minerva said, casting a daring look at the students before she followed Sirius's example, transforming into a cat and speedily leaving the castle after Snape.

"What if Harry's in trouble?" Ron demanded. "We should be down there!"

"I know you're all scared for him," Tonks said, "but if something were truly wrong, don't you think Rosmerta would have Floo'd St. Mungo's instead? I'm not saying that you're too young to help, I'm saying that if something is wrong, it would make it worse to have a massive group of teenagers running in and out of Rosmerta's, all while people who know what they're doing are trying to help. Think of it this way," she suggested when most of the teens still looked bent out of shape—Neville and Hermione, in particular, kept glancing at the door as though they were contemplating shifting into their Animagi forms and making a run for it, "The headmaster and the deputy headmistress have left the castle. If something were to happen, who would be left to protect the rest of the students?"

Hermione and Remus knew it was a stretch, but both Ron and Neville bowed a bit to their Gryffindor sense of duty. Luna was sitting on the bottom step of the grand staircase, the end of a thin plait of blonde hair in her mouth. Hermione lifted a brow at the girl and watched as she tugged the plait out of her mouth to show a lolly that's stick had been woven into the braid. "I'm not worried about Harry," Luna repeated her earlier sentiments. "It's the headmaster we should all be thinking about."

The group nervously waited at the foot of the staircase, the large entrance doors wide open so that they could glance out, looking for the return of their friends and professors. Remus was the first to spot movement near the gates, and not even Tonks could stop the four teenagers from running past her. They darted across the grounds, grinning with relief when they spotted Harry, Sirius, and Lupin. The boy was nearly tackled by his friends, relief in their eyes.

"Harry, we were so worried," Hermione cried. "Why are your robes wet?"

"Had to swim a bit," Harry muttered darkly, his eyes drawn to the ground.

Remus froze. "Where's Dumbledore?"

"Minerva opened the Floo through Rosmerta's. She and Snape took him to the hospital wing," Lupin said. "It's not good." Spotting Tonks making her way down the path, he patted Remus on the shoulder. "I have to go let her know what's happened. The rest of the Order need to be told as well."

"What happened, Harry?" Ron asked, stepping back to allow Luna room to wrap her arms around Harry's waist.

At the intimate contact, Harry let his head fall to the side, leaning against Luna's and drawing from her endless supply of positive energy and tranquillity. "We got it," he said, his voice hoarse. "I think we got it." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a long chain, at the end of which hung a locket.

"You think?" Remus asked carefully as he reached out, taking the locket from Harry. Something was wrong. It smelled different than the diadem had. There was a sense of Dark Magic, certainly, but instead of feeling as though the object permeated darkness like Horcruxes did, this one felt like it had absorbed it like a sponge.

Harry frowned at the look on Remus's face. "Damn," he muttered. "I thought . . . It looks different than the one I saw in Dumbledore's Pensieve."

Sirius furrowed his brow at the necklace. "That looks familiar," he muttered, holding out his hand for Remus to give it over. Running the pad of his thumb over the large gem in the centre, he pursed his lips in thought. "My mother had one just like—" He stopped speaking when he clicked the small latch on the side, popping the locket open. The teenagers watched with great interest as Sirius removed a folded piece of parchment.

" _Lumos_ ," Hermione whispered, lighting her wand so that Sirius could read.

"To the Dark Lord," Sirius said aloud as Harry and Remus read along from either side of him, "I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more."

"Merlin," Remus whispered, his eyes wide as he settled his gaze on Sirius, who suddenly looked as though he had been stabbed in the chest.

"Who's R.A.B.?" Harry asked.

"Umm . . ." Neville cleared his throat. "What's a Horcrux?"


End file.
